


What It Means to Be Alive

by LeandraLocke



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Dean finally goes on that beach trip he always wanted, Destiel endgame, Established Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Established Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, Fix-It, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Some Humor, accepting himself and living his life, and quite a bit of sex, but also lots of awkwardness, healing through self-discovery, sam being a supportive brother, the ending Dean should have gotten
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28500603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeandraLocke/pseuds/LeandraLocke
Summary: After Chuck's defeat and before Sam moves in with Eileen to start a life with her, the two brothers go on a final road trip together. There, on a beach in Mexico, begins Dean's journey of self-discovery and acceptance, of allowing himself to experience life - one that is truly his own - in all its facettes.~*~Season 15 finale fix-it in which Dean doesn't die on a rusty rebar. Destiel endgame.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 127
Kudos: 96





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still bitter about Dean's ending in the series and the message it sent to the viewers that a man like Dean, who's depressed and has often displayed suicidal tendencies, who's been through so much trauma, should only find his peace and true happiness in the afterlife.  
> So I decided to write a story where Dean allows himself to heal, to see the silver lining eventually and to expect a long life ahead of him that may throw in some obstacles here and there but will, overall, be worth living and enjoying.  
> That includes him exploring and finally coming to terms with his bisexuality. At this point, I'm no longer pretending that all the times he's acted awkward or flirty (or both) around other men (not just Cas) was only there as a joke. He was clearly and very blatantly coded as bi, and he deserved a chance to discover and accept that part of himself.  
> So I'm giving him that. I'm trying to do what Chuck, in his egomaniacal self-absorbtion would not: I'm giving Dean everything he needs to get better. 
> 
> A large part of the fic will therefore focus on his relationship with an original male character. It's not a love story, because that would be way too early for him. But it's what he needs at this point. 
> 
> **Please be assured that Destiel absolutely endgame**. I'm not going to spoil what I have in mind more for you at this point, but this story will not end with Dean and Cas meeting again in Heaven, nor will it end with Dean without Cas. 
> 
> Furthermore, this feels like the most personal thing I've ever written. Being bi myself and having to deal with depression and anxiety (though, luckily, my issues are far more mundane and moderate than Dean's, and I've long accepted my sexuality), I relate to Dean on a very deep level. I absolutely cannot wait to get to each new step in his journey - some of which I don't know in detail yet, but, so far, it really feels like Dean is letting me know where he needs this to go when I don't. 
> 
> I've written 8 long-ish chapters so far (21k words), and it's going pretty swiftly. I'm confident that I will keep that pace up and finish this story. My beta-reader is currently working on the already finished chapters, so I'll post the next one once she's done. 
> 
> Please give me some feedback, let me know what you liked and thought.
> 
> Lastly, I found quite a bit of inspiration in the poetry of Alma Perpetua on Instagram. The title is actually a line from one of their poems, and you will find more of that as a foreword to future chapters.
> 
> Edit: I modified the tags after seeing a post on tumblr the other day that people should better not tag background pairings, and that made sense. I hadn't considered it like that before. So I now moved Saileen and Claire/Kaia to the additional tags.
> 
> Edit 2: 16.5 chapters written so far. It's definitely gonna be more than 20, possibly 26, 27 chapters or so. :-)

The sounds of laughter, shouts, and general commotion echoed up the landing and into the crisp evening air. 

“Also get some pie!” was the last thing that reached Dean’s ears as the heavy iron door of the bunker fell shut. He saw Sam stop in his tracks, turning to give Dean a smirk. 

“Looks like you’re not the only pie-crazy person here anymore.”

“That’s because pie is the superior dessert,” Dean said and pushed his brother up the stairs. 

“Oh yeah? So when you stuffed your entire face with Kaia and Claire’s chocolate cake the other day, you were just faking it?” 

Dean rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the smile on his lips. “There are exceptions. And that cake was delicious.” 

The Impala was parked right at the entrance of the bunker. Sam and Dean had just come back from a run-of-the-mill hunt a few hours earlier - just some vamps in a small town nearby. Together with Charlie and Stevie, they had taken the nest out swiftly and efficiently, though Dean had pulled a muscle, feeling the dull ache in his upper back with each wrong move. Maybe he really was getting too old for this. 

“Ah, finally some peace and quiet,” he said as they both reached the car and got in. Dean let the stillness linger for a moment before he started the engine. He couldn’t exactly say he disliked having the bunker full of people these days - so full of life and activity, much more than when it was just him, Sam, Jack and… 

No, he couldn’t go there, or else his good mood would be gone. 

After they had defeated Chuck in the spring and everyone had returned from being Thanos’ed into nirvana, people had started to come to the bunker. First, it was Claire and Kaia, who had moved in permanently in May, just before Sam’s birthday. Then, a few other hunters followed, some of the Apocalypse World folks, other young ones whom Claire had met on her earlier hunts, and through them, even more. Soon the place was permanently housing no less than thirteen people with the occasional guests who stopped by on their way to consult the archives and get advice from other hunters. It had become a true American hunters headquarter, and that probably was what this place always should have been. 

It wasn’t just _his_ home anymore, and Dean didn’t quite know how to feel about that. 

His brother knew, as he always did, and Dean almost would have made the mental joke that Sammy probably still had some of those psychic abilities left, but then again that all felt like it had been an entire lifetime ago. So he didn’t say or do anything in particular, he was just waiting for it to come out - and maybe Dean was a little psychic too. Or maybe it was just natural for two brothers who had spent literally their entire lives together as closely as they had. 

“So,” Sam started, and yep, Dean knew that tone very well. That little hesitant, half swallowed ‘uh’ at the end, before he continued, “Are you gonna be alright?” 

Dean concentrated on the road as the daylight slowly faded, early fall colouring the first leaves on the trees around them gold. 

He didn’t know what to reply with, _how_ to reply, digging deep in his repertoire of jokes and jabs and downplaying comments he could use. What came out instead was, “You deserve this, Sammy,” and he meant it, “You and Eileen being together. Starting a life. It’s all I ever wanted for you.” 

He only briefly looked at his brother, seeing the sympathy and emotion on his features for a second before he directed his gaze back onto the slowly winding road. And yes, he _was_ happy for him. 

When Eileen had called Sam moments after Jack had left, Dean had been so relieved, so thrilled for them. But another part of him, one that he tried to push down and bury with all his might, had been envious. And he could _not_ allow himself to think about it, not then, not now. It was like all his control, all his ability to function, to live and at least try to enjoy life was held together by a thin thread, and he was afraid that it would break if he let himself truly think about or feel what he knew was lurking in his mind, just beneath the surface. 

“You know,” Sam started after a while, “You could find someone, too.” 

It was something so mundane, something other people didn’t question much, and maybe things really were different now. With all those new hunters around, and the biggest threats gone, he could even retire completely. Give that whole ‘apple-pie life’ another try. 

When Sam and Eileen had first started talking about moving in together, Dean had wondered about that. Had tried to see himself with someone, but every time he had wanted to imagine a face, there had been just one he could see. 

“You think I should give this whole Tinder dating thing a go again? Dunno, man, last time we ran into a crossroads demon prostitution ring.” Mild humour. At least, that still worked for him. 

“You know, believe it or not, but even in the year 2020 people do meet offline,” Sam said, gently teasing, and yes, maybe they did. Just that Dean wouldn’t even know where to start looking. Or if he even wanted to. 

Dean was quiet again, and Sam didn’t push him. This time, however, Dean could not come up with another joke. There was something gnawing at him, and it forced its way out. “I’d really like to do some actual living, Sammy. I just… We’ve been on this road so long, I don’t even know if I can. I have no idea where to start.” 

“I get that,” Sam said softly. Then, he gave Dean a thin, apologetic smile because, yeah, he was at a completely different starting point than Dean. “I mean, this is unchartered territory for us. And I get it’s not easy… After everything,” He didn’t spell it out, but ‘everything’ was enough for Dean to know what Sam meant. “But don’t you think Cas would want you--”

“Don’t,” Dean interrupted him. There was a literal, physical pain shooting through him at the mention of the name, clawing somewhere around the middle of his chest. It wasn’t the first time he had heard it. Claire had mentioned him a couple of times, other hunters had asked about him, but in those situations, Dean had always managed to somehow detach himself from the weight of it, or leave the conversation all together and have Sam explain everything to whoever had asked. But now, with the familiarity between them and the confines of the Impala, he could not escape as easily. 

Sam didn’t say sorry, but he also didn’t continue, and Dean was grateful for that. Where silence between them had often been natural, comfortable, it now felt heavy, though. Like a vacuum that was trying to pull something from Dean, to be filled with truth and honesty. The pull inside himself was stronger, though. A part of him knew that keeping everything bottled up wasn’t the ideal way to handle things, but the fact was that he simply wasn’t ready. He didn’t know if he’d ever be. 

“Okay, I have to say something,” Sam started again after a while, when Dean had already thought - hoped - they’d continue the last few miles to the store in silence, just with the radio playing softly. And this time, even though Dean could read his brother pretty well most of the time, he had no clue what he was going to hear. The thumping of his heart in his chest told him it may not be something he’d like. 

“Dean, you’re my brother, and I love you, and nothing’s ever gonna change that. I hope you know that.” Sam’s tone had started gentle but was gaining more vehemence, the last bit coming out almost as an accusation. In the very least, he was exasperated, and Dean instinctively raised an eyebrow at his brother as he briefly looked over to him. 

“But you have got to stop thinking that there are things you cannot share with anyone. If you can’t talk about… _him_ yet, or to me, then I respect that,” it was the last pause he made before the words came practically stumbling over his lips. “But this whole silently suffering widower thing you’ve got going isn’t healthy. Neither is thinking that you missed your only chance at finding happiness. And I know that’s what you’re thinking, because I know you. And I _know_. Hell, part of me has known for years, and I probably should have said something, and--” Sam huffed out a short breath in frustration. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Just as the words were out, Dean felt another stab of pain in his chest because he remembered when he’d last said almost exactly that. It was another moment in which a truth had shaken something loose in him, had left him gobsmacked, and tore something from his subconsciousness he had never dared to fully acknowledge. Just that there hadn’t been enough time...

“I’m saying that nothing is-- nothing you feel or do or discover is gonna change a single thing about how I see you.” His tone was soft now - still insistent, pleading even, but gentle, and Dean could feel Sam’s eyes on him, could see from the corner of his own that his brother had turned around slightly to look at him. 

“And maybe it’s the way dad raised us, and how you always wanted so badly to be like him in every aspect but… You’re allowed to be _you_. Please just tell me you know that.” 

The heaviness inside Dean was now pushed to the side by a feeling of embarrassment, shame even, and he was almost grateful for it because, unpleasant as it was, it was easier to handle than his grief. There was guilt too, at hearing - between the lines - that Sam thought he’d somehow failed him. That he could’ve somehow stopped Dean from torturing himself with all that repression and shame. And no, this definitely was not the moment for jokes, for telling him ‘no chick-flick moments’ or any of the other things he could have said to gloss over the reality of their conversation. 

It was hard, and it made him cringe at himself, but finally, Dean nodded. “Yeah okay. That’s-- uh… thanks.” 

So that was that. Surprisingly simple and without much fuss. After years and years of sweeping it all under the rug, it was finally out, and there was no taking it back. Even with nothing having been spelled out between them, there was an understanding that could not be undone.

“Okay,” Sam said, exhaling in relief. “Okay. Good.” 

“Doesn’t mean that I’m-- uh,” Dean felt like having to clarify. “That all the times I--”

“Yeah, no, of course not,” Sam interrupted, and Dean was glad he didn’t have to find a word for it. This whole moment, the realisations about himself that it tickled out and made them truly, for the first time _real_ , not just somewhere in the farthest corners of his mind but in front of another person, his brother - this was really awkward and difficult enough to handle as it was. 

“Pie and cake,” Sam added, and for the first time since this whole conversation had started, Dean, surprisingly, felt a genuine chuckle come over his lips. 

“Yeah.” Strange as this all was, Dean did feel a little lighter. As much baggage as he still had and probably would for a long time, and as weird as talking about this felt, this was something big. Something enormous that finally broke free. As if - where previously he had only allowed tiny droplets to trickle through, meticulously repairing any leaks right away - the whole fucking Hoover Dam of repression had opened it’s floodgates now, and what came out felt frightening and overwhelming but at the same time cleansing and liberating. 

“So, have you-- uh… ever had cake--”

“Nope, we’re not doing this,” Dean quickly interrupted his brother. “Chick-flick moment over.”

“Okay, sorry,” Sam replied somewhat sheepishly, but then, just a second or two later, he laughed out softly, shaking his head, and Dean couldn’t help but huffing out a short laugh, too, as he rolled his eyes. 

They reached the general store in Lebanon just a moment later, and Dean went in to get beer and snacks while Sam ran across the street to buy some burgers. When they both met back at the Impala, Sam snorted out a chuckle at seeing the big apple pie and a lemon cake in one of the bags. Dean just shrugged. 

“Is this some symbolism or did you really just want cake?”

“I swear if this is gonna become some stupid inside joke between us, I’m never taking you shopping again,” Dean said as they both got back into the car. 

“Right,” Sam just said, amused, but there was also that slightly regretful smile on his lips again. This was far from their last shopping trip together. Sam and Eileen had not found a suitable apartment or house yet because they wanted to stay close-by and find something that they could afford and turn into a proper home, not just for a few months. But sooner or later, that day would come, and then, everything would change. 

“So, what do _you_ want to do?” Sam asked after a minute or two, and Dean knew he didn’t just talk about the evening’s entertainment. 

He shrugged faintly, contemplating for a moment. “I dunno, man. I… maybe I should go on that beach trip I’ve always wanted.” It just wouldn’t be the same, because last time he had allowed himself to dream of it, it had been with Sam… and with Cas. 

“Then maybe we should do that,” Sam said, and that hit Dean by surprise. 

“We? You mean you, me, and Eileen?” 

Sam shrugged but then shook his head. “No, actually I mean just you and me. Just a week or so. I think… I’d actually like that.” 

It hit Dean then. Sam was not just worried about leaving him behind, abandoning his brother to lead his own life, he’d actually miss Dean, too. And maybe this, a proper vacation with no monsters to hunt, could be the best way to say goodbye to that era of their lives. 

“So, one last road trip together, just you and me?” Dean asked and found a smile forming on his lips that turned into a grin. “Could turn into an epic bachelor party for you.” 

“Eileen and I aren’t getting married,” Sam said, but shrugged, smiling with what Dean clearly understood to be the expectation that this, too, was in the cards for them eventually. “And no, she won’t mind. We actually want to go on a beach vacation, too, sometime, but no offense, that’s something we’d probably want to do alone,” he said with slightly teasingly raised eyebrows. 

“Yeah, you definitely won’t need me third-wheeling,” Dean admitted with no hesitation. 

“Yeah, no,” Sam laughed softly. 

“So we’re actually doing this?”

Sam looked over at him. “We should probably get the burgers and pie back to the bunker first, though.” 

Dean rolled his eyes, suppressing a laugh. “Yeah, no, I fully expected we’d just drive off with twenty burgers and without packing a thing or you saying goodbye to your girl first.” 

Sam just laughed at that. 

Dean, feeling somewhat giddy about this now, reached into the side-compartment of the driver’s door to search for a tape he’d remembered, though he rarely ever listened to it. 

“So where are we going? Closest beaches in Texas,” Sam said.

“Hmm, I was thinking Mexico,” Dean replied with a grin as he found the right cassette and put it into the player to switch from radio to tape. 

“Sure, why the hell not Mexico,” Sam replied just as the first sounds of Bob Marley’s ‘Could You Be Loved’ started playing. 

“You do realise Bob Marley’s Jamaican, right?” Sam asked, with that know-it-all tone and then went into incredulous. “And since when are you into Reggae?” 

“Hey, Bob Marley is a legend. And there’s no roads leading to Jamaica, and I ain’t flying,” Dean replied. “So shut your piehole and listen,” he said and turned up the volume. 

And then it came. A playfully affronted “Jerk”. Something Dean hadn’t heard out of his brother’s mouth in a long time, and it instantly made him feel nostalgic. Made him feel a whole lot lighter. Some things, no matter what life held in store for them over the years, apparently never changed. 

“Bitch,” he replied. 

They both laughed softly as they headed down the dark road, back to the bunker.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's chapter two. Thank you for the kudos and the lovely comments! I do hope you enjoy this second chapter and that it gives you a bit of summer in your hearts and minds in this tough and - at least here in Germany - grey winter.   
> Also, my beta reader went over chapter 1 once more, so I edited it with some minor changes. Nothing you have to re-read, though.   
> And here's a little poem by Alma that, I thought, fits these next few chapters of the fic perfectly. :-)

_There’s a map  
On my phone  
That shows  
Where I’m going  
But it doesn’t know  
Where I’ve been  
It doesn’t remember  
You._

_\- Alma_

“Maybe we should try somewhere else.” 

Admittedly, the area they were currently driving through didn’t look very inviting - there were some small buildings scattered along the main road left and right, framed with bush and grassland, and the beach nowhere in sight, but Dean was not going to give into Sam that easily. They had already been driving through Mexico for roughly eight hours now, and Dean didn’t want to make another stop before finally reaching their destination. 

They had left the main highway down from Brownsville once before to get to the shore line - a detour that had cost them over two hours, only to find a really tiny settlement with no proper shops or restaurants anywhere near. Although the beach had looked nice from a distance, they had decided to try somewhere else. 

“Tampico is a major city, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it is. But we’re still just on the outskirts,” Sam replied. “A bit further south is where all the resorts--”

“Oh, no, no. I’m not going to some big touristy resort. I just want to enjoy the beach and some good food and mingle with the locals. Didn’t you say there was something down here?” 

Sam let out a barely suppressed sigh and looked back at his phone. “Playa Serena.” 

“Ah, Playa Serena. That sounds nice. And there were two, three hotels, too?” 

“Yeah, uh, I don’t think they’re hotels. Looks more like private accommodation. We should have booked those in advance.”

Dean rolled his eyes and barely kept in the frustrated sigh that made its way out of him. They had spent the entire previous day driving down from Lebanon to Brownsville, and Dean had somehow expected they’d get to a nice beach around midday so he could finally feel the sand beneath his feet and, for the first time in his entire life, take a dip in the ocean. Now, it was already past five, and they still had to find a place to stay, get changed and… yeah, it was probably not happening today. 

“Okay, let’s just get down there and ask,” he suggested, looking for the exit down to the beach. 

“Fine,” Sam replied and checked his phone again. “You’ve gotta make a u-turn in a few.” 

It took them another five minutes until, at long last, Dean saw the ocean and followed the dusty road parallel to the shoreline to find somewhere they could stop and ask, or somewhere that looked inviting enough to stay. And sure enough, at the end of the road between some high trees there was a sign. 

“Ah-ha! Cantina - Beach bar. Let’s try there,” he said as he parked the Impala in the shade under some trees.”If nothing else, we can have a beer.” 

Dean and Sam had stopped at a mall the night before and bought some more beach appropriate clothing - something they simply didn’t own - and yes, Dean had insisted on summer-y Hawaiian shirts, though they didn’t get a matching pair and Sam had refused to put his on as they had left this morning. Instead, he was wearing a lighter pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt. Dean, on the other hand, was really grateful for having bought a grey pair of loose-fitting shorts and some canvas slippers, because, damn, it was really still quite hot down here even in late September. 

The two brothers followed a short, sandy path - wide enough for a pickup truck but definitely not suitable for _Baby_ \- through the trees and bushes, already seeing three small buildings. Their walls were painted a dirty yellow and the one nestled between two large palm trees and closest to the shore had a tropical looking, leafy roof on top of it. As they approached, they could see a big, glassless window on the side, blue shutters left and right, and the main entrance that was just a door-less, wide opening in the wall leading into the room that was no larger than a regular living room. There was a small bar with four stools and three additional tables in the area around. Despite being clearly open, there was nobody to be seen in the bar. 

“Hello?” Dean called as he and Sam stood at the entrance. He let his gaze wander to take in his surroundings, and it really did look nice here, though. Some leafy sun shades and loungers at the beach, the beige sand clean and mostly soft, and the sea a breathtaking blue, its waves gently rolling towards shore invitingly.

“Anybody here?” he called again, and Sam added, “¿Alguien aquí?” 

“Un momento, por favor!” they heard someone call from the direction of a back room behind the bar, and Dean turned to Sam with a grin. 

“Good thing you’re such a nerd.” 

“You know, if you’d let me drive for a while you could have brushed up on your Spanish,” he replied, slapping Dean’s shoulder. And yeah, maybe that would have been smart, but Dean was not going to admit that. Plus, he knew a few words and expressions, too. 

Finally, the door opened completely, and a guy came out. He was roughly Sam’s age or maybe a bit younger and was carrying a beer keg which he put down behind the bar. “Hola, uh, sorry, I was just getting some beer. What can I do for you guys?” he asked in impeccable English, his accent noticeable but subtle.

Dean gave his brother a self-satisfied look. “See, no need for Spanish lessons,” he said and then approached. “Hi, we just got down here from the States and were wondering if there’s a nice place to stay around here. Nothing fancy, just a small guesthouse or hotel.” 

“Most of the hotels are further south,” the guy, who had a friendly, objectively handsome face, gave Dean an apologetic smile. Sam, now next to Dean, raised his hands in a typical ‘I-told-you-so’ gesture, accompanied with a matching glare. 

“Ah, shame. This beach here looks really nice. So does this bar,” And okay, maybe that had sounded a little flirty, though Dean hadn’t even meant it that way. 

The barman regarded them for a moment, dark eyes looking back and forth between Sam and Dean before he ran a hand through his thick, wavy dark brown hair and wiped his hands in his apron. “If you want to stay here, a friend of mine has guest apartments just about two hundred meters down the beach. But you’d have to get your own food, and there’s only takeout places in walking distance. If you want a proper restaurant, you’d have to drive. I only do snacks here.” 

Dean looked back at Sam who just shrugged in defeat. And okay, maybe just getting down into a hotel’s restaurant for breakfast and dinner was nice, too - not having to take care of their own meals for once, but Dean wanted to give it a try. They could still move on to a different location after a day or two if they didn’t like it. 

“Okay, how can we get in touch with your friend?” 

“I can text her. But she works until six, so you’d have to wait until after that. Seven maybe or eight? You can stay here and have a drink in the meantime.” He gave Dean another small smile. 

“Sounds good to me,” Dean replied and watched as the guy took out his phone to send the text. “And… is there somewhere we could get changed? I dunno about you, Sam, but I want to go swimming. Hey, how long til the sun sets around here?” he addressed the guy again last who smirked briefly. 

“Not for another two hours. So you’re good to go. And the bathroom’s in the next building to the right.” 

“Alright. Awesome. I’ll have that _cerveza_ after. _Muchas gracias_.” 

“Is the apartment even free?” Sam asked just as Dean already wanted to head out back to their car. 

“Oh, yes, she has two, and only one is rented out at the moment. So no problem. Enjoy your swim.” 

“Thanks,” Dean said, smacked his brother on the back and headed out. 

Just five minutes later, he was in his swim shorts and had his beach towel under his arm as he walked over the warm sand that was crunching under his flip-flop sandals. He left the towel on one of the beach loungers, took off his shoes, and slowly walked towards shore, feeling how the sand, now wet, became firmer under his steps. And, finally, he felt the water around his feet and ankles, each small wave washing around them. It was a lot warmer than he would have thought but still refreshing enough, and Dean waded in further. 

Of course, Dean knew how to swim and had done so many times, most often back in his school years, but he’d only ever swam in pools and a couple of times in lakes. This, the movement of the water that made it a little tricky to keep his balance and the salty smell of the sea and the sandy ground, was a completely different sensation. It was slightly overwhelming, scary even, with the ocean stretching for miles and miles and reaching depths he didn’t like thinking about. But here, the ground beneath his feet was only slowly sloping, still shallow enough to stand even a bit further out. 

Dean took a deep breath and submerged himself fully, and to his surprise he found that it was a lot more difficult to dive down than in freshwater. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he remembered that it was the salinity of the water making it denser that gave bodies more buoyancy. The saltiness also burned slightly in his eyes, and he blinked and rubbed them before he just leaned back and let the water carry him, closing his eyes for a moment against the sun that was slowly sinking over the green hills in the distance.

For a moment, just for a very, very short moment, Dean allowed himself to think what it would have been like to be here. With Cas. But that short moment already was too much, the pain in his middle too sharp, too heavy to handle. So he tried to not think of anything at all, to just hear the sounds of the water, smell the air, feel the softly rocking movements of the waves as they carried him. 

Jack would have liked this too, and that, although it was something that gave him a sense of regret, was much easier to think about. Claire and Kaia would love it as well. At least they were still here. Maybe they could all go some time, maybe to California or Florida instead of Mexico. Dean didn’t know if they’d ever been to a beach either. Lying here in this pleasantly warm water, he thought everyone should do that at least once in their lifetime. 

He wondered if Cas had ever, in all the millennia of his existence-- No. He couldn’t go there. 

Maybe he should do some actual swimming instead of just floating around like an idiot. Dean opened his eyes and tried to stand up, but there was no ground beneath him anymore. He spluttered a little, briefly having gone under, and at least he could chuckle about his own failure. A look back to shore told him he hadn’t drifted off too far, only a bit further up the beach. So he crawled back, switching to breast strokes because, yep, opening his eyes under water still burned. He should get some goggles. Maybe a complete snorkelling set. Why hadn’t he thought of that at the store yesterday? 

When he got out of the water and grabbed his towel to dry himself off, he spotted Sam coming from the bar towards him, two beer bottles in hands. Dean sat down on the lounger, on top of his towel, and took the offered bottle from his brother. 

“Thanks, man.” 

Sam just nodded and sat down on the lounger opposite him. “So, Alejandro,” he briefly pointed his thumb back in the direction of the bar, “he thought we were a couple.” 

Dean rolled his eyes as he’d taken the first gulp of beer. “Of course he did. You told him we’re not, though, right?” 

“Yeah, I told him that we’re brothers, and that I have a girlfriend, but that you are single.” 

And there went his second sip of beer, bubbling out of his mouth and, disgustingly, his nose, too. 

Sam laughed. 

“What the hell, Sam? I only told you three days ago that I-- I may like _cake_ , too,” he cringed at himself for using that metaphor again but could not bring himself to call it what it was. “And you’re already trying to set me up with a guy??” 

“Relax,” Sam still laughed, “It wasn’t quite like that. He just did that whole ‘You and your-- uh’ thing that people do when they don’t know and don’t want to ask openly. So I said that you’re my brother and we’re on a final road trip together before I move in with my girlfriend, and that we’d been living and working together. That’s all.” 

Somewhat relieved, Dean took another swig of the beer, shaking his head softly and rolling his eyes once more at Sam. 

“But hey, if he _is_ into men, at least he knows you’re available.” 

“I’m not _available_ ,” Dean replied huffily, but in the same breath wondered if he was. It had been a long, long time since he’d been with anyone. He’d practically lived like a monk these past few years, and although part of him had always known why, that was another can of worms he didn’t want to, or rather wasn’t ready to open. 

“Okay, fine,” Sam conceded, “I’m just saying, if… you know, if the opportunity presents itself don’t hold out on my account. Would be nice not having to deal with your snoring for one night.” 

Dean snorted at that, and after another swig, his bottle was nearly empty. “Alright, I appreciate this whole ‘I support my b--uh--” He couldn’t even say the word.

“Bisexual,” Sam offered and Dean cringed inwardly again, feeling his cheeks heat up which definitely wasn’t from the alcohol or the now setting sun.

“Yeah, uh, That. I appreciate it, Sammy, but doesn’t mean I’m gonna live out my, uh... _that_ , with the first dude I meet. So, just stop, okay? I’m begging you.” 

“Alright. Okay,” Sam finally - or so Dean hoped - admitted defeat. 

“I’m gonna get changed and then get another beer,” Dean said before Sam could change his mind. 

He had meant it when he had said he appreciated his brother’s support, he really did, and if Sam had tried to set him up with a woman - which he had done before - Dean would not have minded in the slightest. But this, this was still very new to him, and it just still felt awkward and embarrassing, even though, objectively, there was nothing to feel embarrassed about. 

They had met many people who’d been gay or bi, and neither Sam nor Dean had ever thought any lesser of them for it. They saw how happy Claire and Kaia made each other, had loved Charlie - their Charlie - from the start like a little sister. And unlike Dean, Sam had never been the one to act affronted when someone had assumed either or both of them were gay. But you just couldn’t bury things in shame for, well, way over twenty years if he counted from when he’d actually started being sexually and romantically active, and then just discard that shame as a thing of the past that had no impact on you whatsoever. Dean would have liked that, but it certainly didn’t work that way. 

Sam didn’t bring anything up anymore when they met back at the bar, though, and he didn’t make things awkward around Alejandro, who was a pleasant, friendly host (and yes, not bad looking either, but Dean ignored that fact, plus there was no telling if he was into men or women). Teresa, the owner of the small guest house and her daughter Juana were just as welcoming, and when Sam and Dean moved into their apartment at around eight, they found the place simple but spotless, warm and cosy. The two women had even stocked their kitchenette with some things for breakfast and told them they could call any time if they needed something. 

Dean’s choice for a vacation spot had turned out to be a good one after all; he could tell that Sam was content with it as well, and that was all that mattered. Just that the TV could have had a few more American channels, but they set up Sam’s laptop on a small table between their beds instead and watched _Bandidas._ Sam had put it on his flash drive the night before they left, because it was set in Mexico and he knew Dean loved western flicks, and his little brother was simply awesome like that. 

And so, as they watched the somewhat mediocre but still entertaining flick and drank a few more beers they had taken with them from the bar, Dean did have a good time. And maybe it wasn’t _that_ hard after all, to try and do some actual living. 

At least today, he thought, he had succeeded pretty well at that. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, next chapter. I hope you'll enjoy it and that you'll find it interesting. I sure enjoyed writing it ;-)   
> Also, please let me know what you think of Alejandro, since he is an original character that I made up. I always find it interesting to know how these come across to readers.   
> Thanks for all your lovely comments so far! And thanks to my beta reader for the great and rather swift work!!

The next day, it was hot. Really hot. Dean was already sweating as he woke up, sheets tangled around his middle and sticking to his legs, and he wondered why he had even bothered to put on a t-shirt for sleeping. Sam wasn’t there, but he’d opened the balcony doors wide before he left, and Dean stepped out, grateful for the slightly fresher breeze outside as he checked his texts. And, yep, scorching heat or not, Sam had actually gone for his morning run. 

After a quick shower and getting dressed for the beach, Dean went to prepare something to eat. He could have gone for eggs and bacon - luckily, Teresa and Juana had provided that - but it was much too hot for cooking anything on the stovetop. So he simply made a sandwich and drank a canned iced coffee they still had left from the road instead of brewing some. 

Having finished his breakfast, he headed for the beach and sent Sam a text to find him there. The beach bar was boarded up when he got there, nobody else in sight, but the sun shades were open and the beach chairs there, so Dean claimed one close to one of the palm trees and laid down in the shade, watching the waves. They were getting a little bigger this time, white, foamy peaks forming not just where the water hit the sand but two, three rows of waves back - and wasn’t that all nice? Peaceful and pleasant and everything he could have dreamed of whenever he had thought of a trip to a beach. 

He watched as a young woman walked along the sand with her dog, who seemed grateful for the refreshment and tried to attack the waves playfully. Dean’s heart ached a little, thinking of Miracle, even though he knew the others would take excellent care of him. The little mutt had grown rather attached to Claire, too, so at least Dean could be certain he was going to do just fine. It didn’t change the fact that Dean missed him, but he was going to survive that, too. 

After a while, an elderly couple came to the beach, claiming two loungers for themselves, and Dean felt it was safe to just leave his belongings on the chair while he’d go for a swim. The water was slightly cooler this morning, probably from currents from deeper parts of the ocean flowing up towards shore with the rising wind. 

He swam around a little, parallel to the shore most of the time so he wouldn’t drift out too far. Despite the cooler temperatures of the water, it did feel almost as warm as a bathtub after several minutes of swimming, and so he slowly made it back, grateful for the breeze on his wet skin making him even shiver a little as he got back out. 

From the water’s edge, he could already see Sam having just gotten there, putting his own towel on a beach chair next to Dean’s. The bar had also been opened, which meant they could get refreshments. It was still way too early for beer, but he could do with an ice-cold soda soon. 

“Morning,” his brother said as Dean reached the chairs. 

“Morning to you too, fitness freak,” Dean replied with a grin as he and took his towel to dry himself off, but then, he decided against it and put it back down to let the sun do the job

Sam just gave him a half amused, half exasperated huffed out chuckle, and Dean added, “Seriously, man, running in this heat? We’re on vacation.”

“Yeah, we are. And with all the greasy Mexican vacation food we’re gonna eat, I have to stay in shape.” 

Dean just rolled his eyes at that and then went to pull his chair out from the shade and into the sun. Heat or not, he’d be damned if he didn’t at least get a bit of a tan while on a beach trip. 

So he lay down on his back - sunglasses on because, even with his eyes closed, it was just too damn bright, and Sam didn’t say anything anymore. 

“Better put some sunscreen on. The sun is really strong here, and freckled skin burns easily,” a voice that wasn’t Sam’s said, close to Dean. He recognised it instantly by that very subtle Mexican accent.

Blinking against the light, Dean sat up and looked into Alejandro’s smiling face. The man raised one hand in greeting, and his smile grew a little more prominent for a moment before he set down what Dean now recognised as a glass with a thick, green, frothy liquid and little umbrella on the small table next to Sam’s chair. “Here’s your avocado smoothie, enjoy.” Dean gagged a little. 

“Muchas gracias, Alejandro,” Sam said. 

“De nada,” the barman replied. “Anything for you… Dean, is it?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Dean replied while sitting up fully, “but definitely not that.”

Sam rolled his eyes but grinned while Alejandro released a soft, breathy chuckle. “I’ve got other things, too. Maybe something fruity? Mango, orange, banana, or.... how about a nopal ice cream milkshake?” 

“Uh, yeah, that sounds, uh--,” Dean stopped, having no idea what nopal even was, “I’ll take that.” 

“Coming right up,” Alejandro said, nodding and smiling, before lightly jogging back to the bar on bare feet. He was only wearing knee-length beach shorts and a loose fitting tank top with patterns in yellow and green, and Dean could see that his skin, probably already slightly darker than his own to begin with, definitely had seen a lot of sunshine. His own legs looked pastry-white in comparison. 

“What the hell did I just order?” Dean asked and saw the amusement on his brother’s face as he directed his gaze back at him. 

“Cactus fig. It’s nice, I guess. And dude, he’s right,” Sam said as he reached into his small gym bag, taking out an orange bottle of lotion and tossing it to Dean. “You really should put some sunscreen on.” 

Dean caught the bottle, making sure to do so grumpily, though he knew his brother and Alejandro were probably right. His lower arms were used to being exposed to the sun, but the rest of his body not so much. 

“I’m not that freckled,” he said, mildly irritated, as he started applying the lotion to his arms. “You practically can’t see them when you’re not looking direct--” He stopped as he saw Sam raising his eyebrows and tilting his head slightly in a suggestive manner. 

_Oh no, not that again_ , he thought, rolling his eyes. 

“So, funny thing,” Sam started with that innocent, casual tone of his that forebode nothing good, “Heterosexual though I am, I somehow seem to have a better gay-dar than you do.” 

“Oh don’t be so sure,” Dean replied, putting another dollop of lotion on his palm to rub it over his right leg. “I mean, how can you even _tell_?” 

How _could_ people tell? If someone wasn’t stereotypically effeminate, which Alejandro definitely wasn’t, how did people ever-- Could people tell about _him_? Had there been people before who had taken one or two good looks at him and thought ‘not straight’, even while Dean, himself, hadn’t wanted to see and acknowledge it? The thought was still uncomfortable and confusing, but even more so was the fact that Dean was wondering if Sam was right… 

“He kinda checked me out when I took off my shirt,” Sam replied, shrugging slightly, and Dean felt himself frown. 

“Oh yeah? No surprise when you’re walking around looking like…” He made a waving motion with one hand up and down in Sam’s direction, “like a brunette Chris Hemsworth.” 

As Sam gave another of his deep chuckles, two blonde women walked by, and yep, they were looking at Sam much more obviously than at Dean. One even waved at him hello, before they, too, settled down on some of the beach chairs, talking animatedly in what Dean guessed was probably Russian or some other Eastern European language. 

“You’re just jealous.” 

“No, I’m not!” Dean replied defensively, but then looked back at the women for a short moment. “Maybe a little.” They weren’t _really_ his type, though.

“Not who I was talking about,” Sam said. Of course, Dean knew that, though he also knew perfectly that Sam was just pulling his leg, trying to get him to embarrass himself. “Wow, Dean, you’ve already got a sunburn. Oh wait, you’re just blushing.”

“Shut up and drink your smoothie,” Dean ground out. He was definitely _not_ blushing. 

Sam laughed, but took a sip of his drink before he covered it with the coaster. “I think I’m going for a swim.” 

Dean only acknowledged that with another low grunt and continued to put the sunscreen on him, getting up to do the back of the legs, then his chest, lower back and shoulders. The middle of his back, however, wasn’t that easy to reach, least of all with the mild pain that was still present when he went beyond a certain point and just felt it blocking the full range of movement. 

“Do you… need some help.” 

He hadn’t heard or seen Alejandro approaching with the sounds of the waves and breeze being louder than his barefooted steps in the sand could have been. As Dean turned to look at him, he saw him carrying a big glass with a pinkish milkshake, elaborately decorated with fresh fruits and a green umbrella. Alejandro set it down next to Sam’s avocado abomination, but Dean’s thoughts were still stuck on the man’s offer. He didn’t really know what to say. 

Alejandro looked at him, brows slightly raised, coffee brown eyes open, and a tiny smile on his lips. There was something almost innocent, definitely non-threatening in his gaze. Maybe Sam had just misread things and Alejandro was perfectly straight after all, just being helpful. Dean didn’t want to examine that or any other thoughts further, though, so he just shrugged faintly and handed Alejandro the bottle of sunscreen. 

“I pulled a muscle in my back,” he felt like having to explain. 

“Oh?” Alejandro squeezed a generous amount of the lotion onto his palms and then rubbed them together to warm it up. “Not too bad, I hope?” 

“Nah, it’s nothing. Almost gone,” he answered, downplaying it just a little. As soon as he felt the warm hands on his back, he also thought he needed to keep talking. “I, uh, had a run in with a rabid raccoon. I’m in, err, pest control.” 

“Really? Pest control? Interesting,” Alejandro said, and yes, that had sounded lame, but Dean had not been able to come up with a better lie. He was glad his brain and mouth had even worked in unison at all because, damn, it had been a really long time since he’d been touched by another person. Not in a fight, and not to patch him up after one, but just… in a way that felt _nice_. 

“Uh, yeah, it-- it’s the family business.” 

“It’s interesting because… my sister and her husband are in pest control, too,” Alejandro replied, and though Dean couldn’t see it he could hear the smile in his voice as he drew his hands from Dean’s back and patted his right shoulder lightly. 

And thank fuck, because one second longer and Dean could not have guaranteed that his body - separated from his mind by the pleasant physical contact for a moment - wouldn’t have done something really stupid. _Crap_. 

“Enjoy your milkshake,” Alejandro said. 

Just as he opened his lips to add something Dean would now never know, they both heard one of the two women calling in a thick, slavic accent: “Yoo-hoo! Alejandro, can you do my back, too, please?” 

Alejandro still had his back turned towards them, and Dean could see him inhale deeply, roll his eyes but grin nevertheless. And yeah, maybe that reaction made it all pretty obvious. 

“Any way I can help you out of that one?” he offered before he could stop himself, but Alejandro just shook his head softly. 

“No, it’s fine. They tip really generously.” 

Both men chuckled. 

As Alejandro turned to make his way towards the other two patrons, he just briefly stopped and looked at Dean over his shoulder. 

“Nice tattoo, by the way.” With a wink, he went, jogging the first few steps but then slowing down as he approached the two women. 

Dean stood there, a little gobsmacked for a moment. He suddenly thought he understood what _that_ comment implied.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry for this lengthy delay between the last chapter and this. My beta-reader had a very busy time with school work and stuff and therefore wasn't able to edit the next chapter. I have a new beta-reader now who's got a bit more time on her hands, so I shoul be able to post new chapters a bit faster again in future.   
> I do want to take this opportunity to thank _both_ of them, though - geewobbles for her great work so far, and zophiezee for taking over and also having done a really good job! <3
> 
> This chapter is a bit shorter than some of the following ones will be, but I do hope you find it interesting. As always, please let me know, because reading what you thought of it is my greatest reward. :-)

**Chapter 4**

It was late afternoon when Dean finally had the opportunity to catch Alejandro on his own. Most patrons that had come to the beach over the day had already left. Just the elderly couple and two teenage boys were still there, the latter playing frisbee by the water and the former well-supplied with their own food and drinks from a cooler bag. 

Sam had gone to buy some groceries at one of the stores across the main road, and Dean dried himself off after his last dip in the ocean. He put on his t-shirt and decided to go get a beer. Now seemed like a good time to address the elephant in the room. 

“So, what other beers do you have that you would recommend?” Dean started as he sat down at the bar. 

Putting away the glass he’d just dried, Alejandro smiled at him again, and Dean did wonder for a moment whether that was just his general thing or whether these smiles were especially for him - and why was he even thinking about that? 

“Do you want something light and refreshing or a bit stronger?” 

Dean shrugged faintly. “I guess light and refreshing sounds good right about now.” 

Without a word, Alejandro opened the fridge, took out a bottle, removed the cap, and set it down in front of Dean. 

“Hm, _Carta Blanca_ ,” Dean read the label, wondering - again - if there was some hidden meaning in this or if the name was a mere coincidence. He took a swig and found that he quite enjoyed it. Definitely not the best beer he’d ever had, but just the right kind of refreshment for a hot summer’s - or early fall’s, in this case - day. 

“Not bad,” he said. Then, after another sip, he decided to cut to the chase. “You noticed our tattoos earlier.” And - ha! - another thought occurred to him that maybe Alejandro hadn’t exactly checked Sam out but just seen the tattoo. But that was beside the point. “If I told you it had a special meaning would you know it?” 

Alejandro regarded him for a moment, maybe wondering the same thing as Dean; could he say it openly, or was this all just a big misunderstanding and coincidence? 

“I have a similar one,” Alejandro said at last, and Dean’s brows automatically went up. 

“Oh? Where?” 

Alejandro considered him for a moment. Then, getting on his toe-tips behind the bar, he pulled his tank top up and the waistband of his shorts down a little to reveal a smaller, different version of a devil’s trap based on a heptagram, just about two inches left and down from his navel. Unlike Sam and Dean’s black one, his was outlined and adorned with some color, making it look very different and less conspicuous than theirs. 

Admiring the artwork of it was the only reason Dean had not immediately drawn his eyes from it, and even let his gaze linger after Alejandro had already let his top slide down over his pants again. Or so he told himself. 

“Nice,” Dean said, and cleared his throat before taking another swig of beer. 

“It’s a protective symbol,” Alejandro said, still only addressing the topic vaguely, and Dean prodded on. 

“So, a religious thing or…”

Alejandro let out a soft, breathy laugh. “No, I’m an atheist.” 

“Don’t I wish I were too,” Dean automatically replied in a mumble - to himself rather than Alejandro. When he saw the other man’s slightly quizzical look, he just made a small waving motion with his hand and shook his head. “Nevermind. So, if it’s not a religious thing, and you know what it means, _that_ means…” 

“It means my sister and her husband aren’t really in pest control. And neither are you and your brother, I guess?” 

“No, we’re not,” Dean said and, to finally stop beating around the bush, added, “we’re hunters.” 

Alejandro let out a relieved breath, then laughed softly. “I did think so. But then again, you can never be sure. I don’t really meet a lot of hunters down here. In fact, you two are the first.” 

“Yeah, we hunters aren’t the most beach-going folk,” Dean said. 

“Which is a mistake. Saving people all the time, you deserve a bit of a reward,” Alejandro replied, and boy, wasn’t he right about that? 

“So how about your sister and her man, how did they get into the life?” 

Alejandro shrugged and went to wash up a few more glasses as he talked. “Same way most people do, I assume. My brother in law’s father was killed by a vengeful spirit when he was a teenager. He met people who knew things, and when Gabriela - my sister - met Miguel he told her the truth. And they’ve been hunting together ever since.” 

“Hm, doesn’t that sound romantic,” he half-joked. Dean also couldn’t deny that he had always kind of envied people who’d found their calling in hunting and made a deliberate choice to join the life, rather than being pushed into it as children. And more so, if they hunted together as partners, though he had also seen too often how that could end. 

“What about you?” Alejandro wanted to know, which Dean had expected. Still, he wondered how to make the long-ass story of his life a bit shorter. 

“Our mom died when we were kids. Demon,” he explained, seeing Alejandro’s gaze softening in sympathy, “Our dad spent the rest of his life trying to find the bastard who did it. So we were in it from the start.”

“Oh, I’m really sorry. That must have been tough.” 

“Yeah, well…Wasn’t always easy,” Dean admitted, knowing it was quite the understatement but not wanting to start a pity-party now, “We did a lot of good because of it, things I’m proud of, other things I’m not so proud of. And we recently dealt with something really big, so maybe it’s even time to pass down the baton to somebody else. We’ve got this whole network of hunters now, and things seem to be… calming down anyway..” 

“Gabi and Miguel have noticed that too,” Alejandro said, interest in his gaze. Then, it darkened somewhat. “I hope this is not the calm before the storm.” 

“You never really know, but this time, we think it really might be a change. A permanent one,” Dean replied, hoping he was right, because, damn, he really was tired of it all. Of a new apocalypse coming around the corner every other year. Of losing loved ones left, right, and center. But things _were_ different now. Hell was practically out of business, and there’d be no more divinely orchestrated drama or catastrophes for some narcissistic God’s entertainment. All that was left now were a few monsters and ghosts, and Sam and Dean would always fight those and help people if they came across something, but it didn’t have to dominate their entire lives any longer. 

“Does that have anything to do with the big thing you mentioned?” 

Dean let out a huff of breath, smiling with raised brows before he took another sip of his beer. “You know, that is a story for at least an entire evening. And definitely needs more alcohol.”

Alejandro seemed to be satisfied with that answer for the moment. He gave a small shrug. “If you ever want to tell it, I’m here every night.” 

“Don’t you ever get a night off, and go home?” 

“I have someone helping out on some days, but this is my bar. And I live here,” Alejandro replied with a short laugh. “The building behind the bar, that’s my home. Nothing fancy, but I like the simple life. The beach, the water…” Alejandro let Dean’s gaze, a small, smirk playing around one corner of his mouth before he leaned forward the tiniest bit. “... Meeting interesting strangers and enjoying their company.” 

There was a part of Dean that would have simply blacked out and started babbling - a part that would have wanted to get away but also to stay. He’d definitely have made a complete fool out of himself as he had done in such situations so many times before, every time a man had even remotely expressed interest in him. 

There was another part of Dean, however, that was confident, had learned to flirt himself in and out of any situation as he pleased, to use his charm and enjoy watching the results unfold. The only difference was that he’d only ever done that with women, at least consciously, save for a few exceptions where he had just been cocky and not been flirted at, first. Right now, Dean decided he’d be damned if he let the former part win. 

However, he was not fully comfortable with playing that whole game with a guy just yet, and so he opted for a safe middle ground, something subtle and probably, in a way, something more sincere and authentic. 

He leaned back a bit, took his bottle in hand, and raised it briefly as he gave Alejandro a small, not playfully flirty or suggestive but genuine smile. “Well, here’s to enjoying good company. I don’t know if you drink while you’re working, but I’d buy you a beer. Like you said, it’s not every day you meet someone that knows about this whole hunting business.” 

Alejandro’s brows went up slightly, and he laughed out softly, his brown eyes shining with amusement. “You’d buy me a beer from my own bar? You do realize I can just drink one whenever I like.” 

“True. But then you’re not getting any money for it. So… my treat. And give me another one while you’re at it.” 

“Well, I’m not gonna say no to that,” he said and opened two more bottles, clinking them together as soon as Dean lifted his. “Salud.” 

“Salud,” Dean replied and maintained the eye contact for a moment as he drank. “So, speaking of other languages, how come your English is so damn good?” Small talk. You couldn’t really go wrong with that, plus Dean _was_ interested. 

“I lived in the States for a few years,” Alejandro replied. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. My dad was a civil engineer and had a long-term engagement in Austin. So we moved there when I was sixteen. I finished high school in English and started college. Art school, to be exact.” 

“Art school? So you’re, what, a painter?” 

Alejandro shrugged and scratched the back of his head with one hand, brushing the thick, wavy strands back from his face afterward. “I’d like to be. I mean I do paint and draw, but it’s not exactly money-making. Sometimes I sell a little something on the side, but this bar is my main source of income.” 

Dean couldn’t help but wonder how much Alejandro could make with that. It wasn’t exactly packed and hadn’t been all day. 

“It’s Tuesday, so things are going slow,” Alejandro said, having guessed Dean’s thoughts. He was now leaning back against the fridge casually, the beer bottle in one hand. “But on Friday and Saturday the place can get pretty packed, it’s practically one giant party here on the beach all night. So that’s some good money. It’s not a lot, but I get by. And I wouldn’t really want it any other way.” 

“Well, that’s the main thing,” Dean replied and got another smile, and a hinted toast, from Alejandro. 

“So, if you’re still around on Friday--”

“Oh, yeah, we will be, and I’m definitely not gonna miss an epic beach party. I always wanted to go to one.” 

Dean was pleased, more pleased than he would have cared to admit, to see the smile on Alejandro’s lips turn a little more radiant after that. 

  
  


Later that night, long after he and Sam had gone to a really good steakhouse for dinner and had watched another movie on Sam’s laptop, when the lights were out and he lay in bed, alone with the soft sounds of Sam’s even breathing and the waves outside their balcony door, Dean felt guilty. Guilty for whatever benign version of flirting that had been earlier, guilty for enjoying Alejandro’s company, and guilty for allowing himself to wonder, to think of the lines of muscle on his flat abdomen when he had shown Dean the tattoo, guilty for liking the way he’d smiled and given Dean attention. He knew it was irrational; he had never promised anything to-- To Cas, and he could not let himself even think about what he would have promised, had he been given the opportunity, had he - they - been given the time. 

But Sam had said it, or at least tried to before Dean had cut him off. That… Cas would have wanted him to be happy. To live, enjoy life, do all the things that made him feel good. Dean knew that to be true, because, if their roles had been reversed, he would have wanted the same thing for him - jealous though the thought made him now, even in hindsight, even in a completely fictional scenario. And he _had_ to stop thinking of that. Had to stop thinking of Cas. Of all of the things Cas had said to him. And so, when he saw blue eyes in his mind - the memory of them, shining with tears and warmth and so much more, etched into Dean’s consciousness until the day he died - he chased the sight away, thought ‘ _late_ r’ and ‘ _I just can’t, it just hurts too much_ ’. Instead, he focused on brown eyes and a friendly smile, of mundane but entertaining stories and facts of life, and he finally let himself drift off to sleep, wondering what Alejandro’s lips would feel like against his own. 

  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another chapter, rather swiftly after the last. Big thanks to my beta-reader ZophieZee!! <3  
> The next one might take a little longer as it's rather lengthy. But I'm sure it's worth the wait ;-) (and I absolutely want to hear what you _expecty_ to happen in the next chapter, hehe).

During the night and early morning, the wind had picked up a notch, bringing with it some cooler air but not enough to forebode a chilly day. It was still dark out when Dean woke up, surprisingly before Sam. So to avoid waking him, he moved the coffee maker to the bathroom, made some coffee, and then sat down in one of the two chairs on the balcony, looking out over the sea. The sun was starting to rise on the horizon, painting the dark water golden where it touched the rippling surface. Dean had to admit he’d hardly ever seen a sight more beautiful than this in nature, something more calm and comforting. 

He had to think of Jack, of what he had told them after they had defeated Chuck, that he’d be in every drop of falling rain, every rock, each grain of sand, and in the sea. 

‘ _You did good, kid_ ’, Dean thought, wondering if Jack could hear him, or even had his ears on because he had also said he didn’t need people to pray to him to be part of them. ‘ _I wasn’t always fair to you. I could have done better by you, could have put less pressure on you, less of my own crap. But hell, I just wish you could have brought him back._ ’ Dean felt his nose prickle, his vision slightly blurred, and he swallowed, rubbed his eyes, and tried not to think about this, not to feel this sadness and longing. 

Maybe it was just his imagination or his need for comfort, but when the first rays of sun reached his face it felt like a caress, like an ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’ and ‘ _this is the way it is, and there’s still beauty in the world, things worth living for._ ’ He had to believe it. 

“Hey,” he heard Sam softly behind him, his voice still a bit thick with sleep. “When did you start getting up so early?” 

Dean breathed in, and when he turned over his shoulder to look at his brother, the small smile on his lips came easier than he would have thought. 

“It’s past seven-thirty, since when do you call that early? Don’t you usually finish your daily half marathon around this time?” 

Sam rolled his eyes slightly but looked at Dean in amusement. “Well, as you said, we’re on vacation.” 

Dean could have teased him a bit more, could have added another remark, but instead, he just looked back out towards the sea, squinting against the brighter sunlight and watching the soft waves as the water slowly turned a brighter blue. 

“Coffee’s in the bathroom.” 

“Bathroom?”

“Yeah. Didn’t want to wake you.”

Sam let out a soft chuckle, and Dean took it as thanks. Instead of getting himself a cup, however, Sam sat down on the second chair, leaning forwards with his lower arms on his knees as he looked out as well. 

“It’s really something, huh?”

“Yeah.” The sun became brighter, warmer, and the wind also seemed to lessen gradually. This was really nice. Sitting here, with his brother by his side, in comfortable silence. And maybe it wasn’t just the big things, the massively rewarding events that made life worth living, but little moments like these. Dean still had his brother, he had the girls and Miracle and a full life ahead of him. Places he could visit, experiences to be made, new things to try. 

Of course, he had always had that, and he’d made good use of many aspects, many pleasures of life, before, too. Up to the point of defeating Chuck, however, it had always felt like he had to rush through everything, take and savor it as long as he could, and often pass up on opportunities too because their life, their responsibilities, got in the way. Or his own, stupid self. 

Dean was forty-one years old, and he only just realized that he had never fully, truly learned to just appreciate a moment without fearing what would come next to end or spoil it. 

“Right, I need some breakfast. How about some eggs and bacon?” 

Sam looked at him and nodded. “Yeah, sounds good to me. Down to the beach after that? We got that snorkeling gear I bought yesterday to try out.” 

Dean got up from the chair and headed towards the room, grinning back at his brother. “Only if you let me take a photo of you because you’re gonna look like a complete dork.” 

“And you won’t?” Sam replied sarcastically. 

“That’s right. Because I’m awesome,” Dean said, fully expecting Sam’s exasperated but amused eye roll. 

And so they did all that. They had a lavish breakfast, headed down to the beach again, before Alejandro opened the bar, took photos of each other and both of them together, looking dumb as hell with mask and snorkel, and sent them to Eileen and Claire, sure either of them would probably share them with the whole bunker. In the afternoon, they decided to just give in and go full-on tourists, visiting the city center of Tampico to see some sights, buy things they didn’t need, and get a slightly too expensive and definitely way too greasy but delicious dinner. 

Dean couldn’t remember when he’d last had such a simple fun day with his brother, and part of him was a bit melancholic about it because, soon, Sam would move out of the bunker and start a life with Eileen. For the most part, however, he was happy for him, even proud, and he realized once again that, in many ways, he had always felt a bit like a parent to Sam, not just a brother. It may be a bit ridiculous, looking at this thirty-seven-year-old giant of a man and thinking something along the lines of ‘ _little Sammy, finally grown up_ ,’ but Dean didn’t so much mind being ridiculous about this. 

It was in the evening, when the sun had already set, that Sam and Dean did their own thing for a while. Sam wanted to video chat with Eileen, and Dean swallowed the suggestive, teasing remark that was on the tip of his tongue and instead just told him to say hi from him. He changed into a fresh shirt (not a Hawaiian one but a simple, short-sleeved shirt in a pale, rusty-red, subtle pattern) and a light pair of jeans before he headed down to the beach bar. 

There were a few locals there, sitting at the small tables that Alejandro had pulled out from the interior and set up in front of the bar. Music was playing, just some generic Latin American beach music, softly enough for Dean to not mind it much despite not being quite his style. 

When Alejandro spotted him, his face immediately lit up with a bright smile, and Dean couldn’t quite prevent the delight from spreading in his chest at that. 

“Hey, buenas tardes,” Dean greeted with a grin as he approached. 

“Buenas tardes,” Alejandro replied, wiping his hands on his apron as he had just finished washing glasses. “Quite a few Spanish phrases you’ve picked up already.” 

Dean made a waving motion with his hand. “Not many, no, and I picked up most of them on TV. I can say hello and goodbye and order a beer, and that’s about as far as my Spanish skills go.” 

“Well,” Alejandro shrugged slightly. “It’s a start. Though... after sunset, we usually say buenas noches.”

“Ah. I’ll try to remember that. And, you know, you could always teach me some more,” Dean said, and while the statement itself was innocent, his tone and smirk had been subtly but deliberately flirty. 

Alejandro seemed to have picked it up. The smile on his face turned into a slightly crooked smirk, too, and he leaned in a little bit on his side of the bar. “I could. What do you want to know?”

Dean pursed his lips in thought, eyes going upwards to the ceiling for a moment. “Hm, for starters, how to--” 

“Hola, Jandro,” a female voice interrupted him just as he was about to ask how to order two tequilas, one for him and one for Alejandro. 

Two young women had come in, both of them extremely pretty, greeting Alejandro with words that were uttered way too quickly for Dean to even try and follow them. One of the women was slightly shorter than the other, and she instantly seemed very warm and bubbly, her big smile making her eyes shine as she continued to chat animatedly, getting friendly and welcoming replies from Alejandro. 

Then she spotted Dean and, still smiling, looked him up and down for a moment. “ _Hola, creo que no nos hemos visto antes_.”

“Sorry, I… _no hablo espanol_. But _hola_ to you too.” Dean hadn’t meant it, least of all in front of Alejandro, but somehow, the second bit had come out a lot flirtier than intended, his body automatically reacting with a bright grin as if by muscle memory. 

As soon as he let it fade and looked back at Alejandro, he could see the other man’s features having darkened just a bit, though he was trying to hide it behind his ever-present, friendly smile. If Dean had needed any more proof that Alejandro was, in fact, into men, this was it.

The two women ordered beers and two tequilas, continuing to chat to each other and Alejandro, and the bubbly one still exchanged a few looks with Dean, very obviously and despite the language barrier trying to determine whether she’d have any luck. When Alejandro sat down a glass of tequila in front of Dean, too, the young woman winked at him, and damn, he was flattered. He would have been utterly delighted, and an earlier version of him would have simply blissfully forgotten that there was a guy who was very likely expressing interest in him which he was definitely returning. But that was then, and - fair to Alejandro or not - it wasn’t what Dean wanted at this moment. 

The realization almost shocked him a little, though it should have come as no surprise. 

Dean just raised his glass at the women, making sure to give them a grateful, friendly but definitely not flirty smile as he said, “ _Muchas gracias_. And… _buenas noches_ to you both,” hoping they understood his intention and got the message. 

They waved at both of them, the bubbly, shorter shrugging at Dean with a regretful smile on her lips - and yes, she had got it. Then, they went outside again to join a few others at one of the tables. 

Dean turned back to Alejandro who could not quite hide the confusion on his features, and Dean decided to shed some light on it. Be honest, open, and not try to hide. 

“That-- uh… was a reflex.”

“A reflex?” Alejandro asked, the furrows on his brow softening into an openly interested gaze. 

Dean took a deep breath and decided to down the shot first, not bothering with the salt or the lemon this time. “Yeah, you see… I’m-- ah. I’m bi.” It was the first time he had ever said it, and Dean couldn’t deny that it was frightening. His heart seemed to thump all the way up to his throat, but he also felt strangely liberated, as if saying it, out loud in front of another person - one that he was interested in, for that matter - made him finally, fully and truly accept and embrace that part of himself. 

“Oh.” Alejandro’s gaze was still open, interested, and so Dean just went on. 

“Yeah, and… this may be a bit embarrassing for a forty-one-year-old man, but it took me a very long time to figure that out. The truth is, I’ve only just gotten there recently. So when I see a beautiful woman and she tries to flirt with me, which I think she just did, I just react on auto-pilot. Or at least that’s what just happened.” 

“Well, that… makes sense,” Alejandro replied, and he leaned in a bit closer again, one arm resting on the worktop of the bar. “Not the part about you being forty-one, though. You look much younger.” 

Dean laughed at that, feeling his cheeks heat up around his grin just a little. “Well, thank you.”

The earlier irritation forgotten, Alejandro’s brows went up just a notch as he mirrored Dean’s grin with just slightly lesser intensity. But then his expression softened, became more serious and sincere, as he continued, “Don’t be embarrassed, though. We all have our own stories. There’s no right age or one right way to do this and figure things out about yourself.” 

And that was good to hear, from someone who shared at least some of his own experience - an acceptance. 

“So what’s your story then?” Dean wanted to know and Alejandro let out a small, reminiscent chuckle. 

He rounded the bar, took the stool furthest to the left, and sat down, at the side of the bar, facing Dean but still at maybe an arm’s length distance. 

“I was fairly lucky, I knew pretty early. I’m not bi, either, I’m gay, so there was no question, really. I had crushes on boys at school, but it was in college when I first started dating. So the whole process, for me, was really uneventful and uncomplicated. Except for the obligatory occasional homophobia,” he ended on a chuckle. 

“Hm, yeah.” Dean pondered for a moment, and he had an idea on why it took him so long, aside from the obvious of having grown up the way he had and the overall social pressure. “I guess it’s a bit harder when you have that alternative. I mean, dating women has always worked for me. So why change a running system?” 

“But you want to change it now?” Alejandro asked, and the way his voice had gone lower and he leaned in just a tiny bit closer, left arm resting on top of the bar, made it fairly obvious he wasn’t just talking about what Dean wanted in general. 

Dean felt his heartbeat quicken again, very much not unpleasantly so, though his cheeks were tingling a bit from nerves and excitement. Nevertheless, he brought his right arm up, mirroring Alejandro’s position. Their hands were mere inches apart. “I’d like that, yeah.” 

Maybe, if there hadn’t been around a dozen people outside the bar, and if this wasn’t a traditionally Catholic country where Dean had no idea how strangers might react, he’d have made a more daring move, but when his ring and middle finger brushed against Alejandro’s, their gazes locked in anticipation, it was a time-stopping moment. And Dean was curious where it would lead.

“Oh, hey Dean,” he suddenly heard his brother’s voice behind him. 

Alejandro quickly withdrew his hand, and Dean just closed his eyes, inhaling deeply in sheer and utter frustration. 

“Sam,” he replied through gritted teeth, shot Alejandro an apologetic half-smile, and turned around. “I thought you were face-timing with Eileen.”

“Yeah, but--” Sam replied, brow furrowed as he looked at Dean and, very briefly, Alejandro, back at Dean and, trying to hide his eyes widening with what probably was a realization, swiveled a bit, to the crowd outside and back in again. 

“Hi Sam,” Alejandro said, now back behind the bar. “What can I get you? Beer? Tequila?” 

“Uh, thanks, yeah. Both,” Sam replied and then finally decided to answer his brother. “There was a little accident in the kitchen. And Claire and Kaia wanted to see us both later, so we said we’d meet again in about half an hour.” 

“And you couldn’t have texted me that?” Dean replied, his mood having gone a bit sour. A lot sour. As much as he would also like to speak to Claire, Kaia, and Eileen, this was not how he had pictured the situation. 

“I thought I’d… get a beer in the meantime,” Sam said, mildly defensive. And yeah, well, he couldn’t have known. 

Alejandro was already preparing their drinks, handing two bottles and one glass of tequila to them before he took a tray and made his way around the bar. “I’ll be right back,” he said, as he went out to clear the empty glasses and take new orders, and Dean could have sworn his cheeks were slightly flushed. 

“Dude, did I just… cockblock you?” 

Dean cringed. “Never use that word again!” But Sam just looked at him with raised eyebrows, and so he added, voice lowered, “and yes, you did.” 

“Wow, Dean, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I saw the crowd out here, so I didn’t think…” 

“Yeah, well, it’s not like we’d-- uh,” _have made out on the bar_ , Dean thought, _and thanks for the mental images_ , he told himself, “anyway, nevermind. Accident in the kitchen?” 

Sam snorted softly, then shrugged. “One of the guys just burned something. Nothing big. Hey, if you don’t want to come, I can tell them we’ll do this t--”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Dean interrupted him, “I’ll go.” 

It really wasn’t like they could have made out right then and there, with all the other guests present in the line of sight. Dean also usually wasn’t one for taking much pleasure in subtle, modest hand touches like a freaking Jane Austen heroine, but damn, it had been _nice_. 

And so, after they had finished their beers, the two brothers headed back to their apartment a good twenty minutes later, and Dean shot Alejandro another apologetic smile, drinking in the one he got in return. 

There would definitely be another moment for them. Dean would make sure of it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As I expected, it took a little longer for my beta to read this chapter. I hope the wait wasn't too long, but I'd like to think it was worth it ;-) This is the first chapter that deserves the rating of the fic. Please do let me know what you thought of it.   
> And thanks for all your lovely comments so far!! <3

Speaking with Eileen, Claire and Kaia had been fun. It was nice seeing them again and hearing their voices, and the girls had even gotten Miracle in front of the laptop. He had actually recognized Sam and Dean’s voices and whined and barked loudly, which had made them all laugh but had also tugged on Dean’s heartstrings a little. He really missed the pup. 

After about an hour of exchanging news - most of which were funny stories from the bunker - it had been just Eileen in her and Sam’s room, and Dean didn’t need to be a genius to figure out that Sam wanted to be alone with his girlfriend. And so he said goodbye to Eileen and then, as soon as she could not see him speak any longer, told Sam to send him a text when he was done. 

As he left the two-story building, he really meant to just get another drink, but there was an excitement growing in him with every step he took, and it only got stronger, crawling down his back, as soon as he spotted the bar empty of patrons and Alejandro in the process of closing the shutters. 

He had his back turned towards Dean, and couldn’t hear him approach over the music that was still playing softly as he struggled with the hinges of the wooden pane that he used to cover the main entrance. Dean hadn’t meant to startle him, but Alejandro jumped a little when Dean got there and lifted the pane to help it slide shut. 

“Oh, hi, didn’t hear you coming,” he said, as they closed the thing just enough for one person to still fit through. 

“Sorry,” Dean replied. “Saw you fighting with this and thought you might need some help.” 

Alejandro nodded slowly, hands in the back pockets of his cargo shorts before he took one out again and waved it around the general direction of the bar. “Everybody left, so I was closing up. I didn’t think you’d be back again tonight. Is there something you’d like?” 

Dean regarded him for a moment in the dim light of the bar - the shadows it cast on Alejandro’s face. There was a definite masculinity to it but also softness, a mixture that Dean found very pleasing to the eye. His thick but not bushy brows slightly furrowed over his dark brown eyes, high cheekbones, five-day scruff making his jaw look more angular. Nicely shaped, neither thin nor remarkably full lips. Lips that now formed a subtle, expectant smile as he surely by now must know Dean did not have another drink in mind, and his gaze that traveled down to Dean’s own mouth. 

“Yeah. There is,” Dean said, voice low, almost raspy, and he could practically hear the sound of his own quickened heartbeat, felt the tingle in his spine pool in the pit of his stomach and shoot further down. 

Then, closing the remaining distance between them with one swift step, both of Dean’s hands were at the sides of Alejandro’s face, and just a split-second later Dean was kissing him. 

Alejandro’s warm, wet lips instantly opened under his. As Dean felt the other man’s tongue against his own, it felt as though his heart was beating up his throat, making it constrict with how overwhelmingly exciting it felt to finally, after years and years of denying himself this, kiss another man. To feel the stubble of his beard tickle Dean’s skin, almost scraping it, deliciously rough; the hardness of his Adam's apple against Dean’s thumb before he brought his hand lower, let it roam, feel the neatly trimmed hair on Alejandro’s chest at the neckline of his tank top. Hear the low, throaty breaths as he caught them with his lips. 

He was already half-hard in his jeans just from that one kiss, and he didn’t even try to hide it, just following instinct and the urge of his body to be closer to this man as he pushed himself against him, pinned him between the makeshift door and his own body. 

The sound Alejandro let out was almost a whimper, followed by a whispered, open-mouthed chuckle. “Jesus Christ, Dean.” One arm had come around his back, the other lying on Dean’s chest, and Alejandro gently, reluctantly pushed against him to bring some distance between them. “If I’d known you kiss like that I’d have thrown everybody else out earlier.” 

Dean let out a chuckle, feeling pleased, excitement still bubbling up his throat and preventing him from speaking. He just briefly managed to lean in and press a slightly more gentle kiss to the side of Alejandro’s mouth, then to his cheek and jaw, before the other man grasped his hand and slowly pulled him away from the door. 

“Wait, okay? Just let me close up and we’ll go over to my place.” 

Dean wouldn’t have objected to ripping each other’s clothes off right here in the bar, but there were things they might need - and for the first time since he had acknowledged and then followed his attraction to Alejandro, he wondered what the man expected of him, what he was into. It was a little bit easier to remain patient then, or rather nervous and a little worried that this might not work out. As much as he wanted to spend the night with him, there were some things Dean was not prepared to do. 

He had no other choice but to wait and see. Alejandro closed the door, locked it, and then took Dean’s hand again to lead him to the back exit in the storage room, and yes, they stopped briefly between the shelves as Alejandro pulled him in for another deep kiss, arching his own body against Dean’s, all firm and slender muscle, strong arms around his back. 

Another soft chuckle vibrated against the skin of his cheek, and Alejandro finally tore himself away. “Not far now. We can make it.” 

“You sure?” Dean asked, only half-joking because he felt like his brain was short-circuiting right now. 

“Come on.” Alejandro pushed him out of the backroom and locked the door, this time not reaching for his hand again as he led the way up the few steps to the other building and in. 

Dean barely took in his surroundings as the lights and ceiling fan were both switched on. To the right, there was a separate room, probably the bathroom, and next to it a small kitchen unit. Other than that, it was one large, open room, a big portion of it occupied by painting utensils, canvases, and finished or half-finished paintings. But Dean really had no patience to look at them now. Instead, his gaze followed Alejandro towards the bed in the back left corner where he switched on a bedside lamp and another one on a dresser and turned the ceiling lights off again. 

“Come here,” Alejandro said softly, and Dean did not hesitate. Just two steps and their arms were wrapped around each other again to kiss, teeth scraping his bottom lip, tongues touching, getting rougher and more impatient. 

Dean had been so starved of touch, and intimacy, that it was hardly enough, and Alejandro seemed to notice. He pushed himself against Dean as he pulled him down onto the mattress, up against his hips where Dean could feel that Alejandro was growing hard already, too. But then he let out a soft groan, more frustrated than aroused, and a low laugh as he gently pushed Dean off of him. “Jesus, okay, we need to slow this down a little,” he said breathlessly. 

“We do?” Dean asked a little cheekily. He really didn’t want to, but he also knew Alejandro was probably right. 

“I wouldn’t want this to be over in two minutes. This… is your first time with a guy?” he asked carefully, looking up and over to Dean, who was leaning above him on his side. 

“Yeah. Who would’ve thought I’d lose my virginity twice in my life?” he tried to cover up the mild insecurity he felt at the question with a joke, only then realizing what it could imply. “I mean…” He didn’t quite know how to say it coherently. 

But Alejandro was there, more experienced than him in this aspect, and there was a gentleness in his gaze now as he propped himself up on one elbow, one hand reaching for Dean’s shoulder - and for a split-second, Dean _was_ glad it was the right one - as he ran his fingers up to the side of his neck in a slow, soothing caress. 

“So, how _do_ you want to do this?” 

This was the pivotal moment then. Dean had not had much in-depth contact with gay men, but even he knew that some of them - or most? - had a preference when it came to which part to take. And so, despite knowing his own answer, he asked, “What do you usually prefer?” 

Alejandro shrugged softly, pushing himself up to a sitting position, his hand now running down Dean’s arm and reaching for his fingers to intertwine them. It was weird how that touch alone sent shivers down Dean’s spine as well. 

“I can do both. Generally, I prefer to bottom.” 

Dean barely knew how to breathe after that, relief only there in the back of his mind and instantly drowned out by anticipation and arousal. “That’s… that’s good,” he only got out before he leaned up for another kiss. 

It did cost him some resolve to keep it slower this time. Usually, that was no problem for him, but he was used to sleeping with women. With them, there was nothing truly new, no great unknown, no first - at least not generally. And there definitely wasn’t anything he’d kept buried inside him for decades only to find that, yes, just being here and anticipating having sex with a man was already ten times more exciting than he could have ever imagined. 

Before that could happen, however, they still had to get out of their clothes, and Dean was grateful that Alejandro had taken it upon himself to open the buttons of Dean’s shirt, slowly, one by one. He’d probably have ripped a few ones off if he had done it himself. 

What Dean did, though, was pull Alejandro’s tank top over his head, for the first time seeing the other man’s naked torso completely. Dark hair covered his chest evenly, not overly thick, and trimmed very short. From where it ended along his ribs, a fine trail led down around his navel and further - he had already caught a glimpse of that yesterday. Alejandro had a slender but athletic build, a six-pack not overly defined but clearly visible under his tan skin, and Dean felt a tiny bit self-conscious. A little less so when Alejandro placed hungry kisses all along his chest, at every bit of skin he exposed with each opened button until Dean’s shirt slid from his shoulders, too. 

Maybe he _should_ start to work out a little more... and eat a little healthier, too. 

“Lie down,” Alejandro whispered against his stomach, kissing his way further down, but then - both luckily and unfortunately - leaned back again to open the button of Dean’s pants. If he had kept his mouth there, Dean would've lost what little control he had left. 

His jeans went, lying somewhere on the floor for all he cared, and Alejandro knelt up to open the button of his own shorts. But Dean, in a flash of self-control and daring, pulled Alejandro down by one hand, made him lie down on his back now to take off his shorts. Like Dean, Alejandro was wearing boxer briefs underneath, though they were a little tighter, cream white, and very clearly showing the outline of Alejandro’s dick. 

If Dean wasn’t as into men as he thought up until this point, now would have been the moment to recoil, but that never came. Instead, Dean’s hand reached out, almost on its own accord, as he first gently, then with a stronger grasp laid it on the firm bulge. 

Even though Dean, naturally, was no stranger to the feeling of a dick growing hard in his hand, it still felt amazing touching, not his own but somebody else’s. Especially when Alejandro pressed his head back into the pillow and let out a deep, drawn-out moan that Dean caught with his mouth a second later. He kissed him deeply but with as much patience and deliberation as he could muster, as his hand slid under the waistband of Alejandro’s underpants. He felt the equally trimmed, coarse hair under his fingertips, and then the hardness of Alejandro’s erection fill his fist as he slid it up once, twice. 

His lips left Alejandro’s, making their way down his neck, and over his collarbone, as his hand picked up a slow, steady rhythm, coaxing more of those breathy moans from the other man, and yes, he could work with that. He’d always been a giver rather than a taker, and it was easy, even now, new and unknown as this was, to focus on the other person for a while. He felt no hesitation when he brought his lips down to one of Alejandro’s nipples, tongue encircling it, sucking on it lightly before he wandered over to the other. 

“Mmmh, God… Okay, stop,” Alejandro breathed. “If you don’t want me to come just from your hand you really need to stop. God, you’re good at this.” 

Dean slowly withdrew his hand and let it rest on Alejandro’s stomach, his thumb drawing lazy circles. “Well, I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said, grinning down at Alejandro who laughed softly at that. 

He leaned back up and reached for his nightstand, taking a bottle of lube and a condom out of the drawer, and setting a box of tissues on top of it, and Dean felt another wave of excitement course through him. Though with it also came another point where he wasn’t quite sure what to do. He _had_ done anal with a woman before, twice, and he knew it had needed a lot of foreplay for it to work out and be pleasant for her. As far as gay men went, he didn’t quite know to what extent experience and routine featured into it. 

“What do you need me to do?” 

Alejandro smiled as he swiftly slid his boxer briefs down his legs and slipped out of them, and Dean took a moment to look at him, his erection now laying against his lower abdomen, a good, medium size, as he had already felt in his hand. 

“I’m pretty much ready for you,” Alejandro replied. “Just go slow and give me a minute to accommodate. Put some lube on me with your finger and lots of it on yourself.” 

Dean nodded, licking his lips, and he watched Alejandro’s hand reach over and pull at the hem of Dean’s boxer briefs to take them off, too. As soon as Dean was fully naked and Alejandro looked at his dick, there was a small, lustful smile on his lips before he bit his lower, and fuck, if that gaze didn’t raise mental images in Dean then he didn’t know what would. They’d have to leave _that_ for another time, though, or later. 

Instead of getting anywhere near his dick with his mouth, Alejandro opened the condom packet and rolled it on Dean, and he had to inhale sharply, press his eyes shut, and focus on not getting ahead of himself. It really had been so damn long. 

“Do you want me on my back?” Alejandro asked, and Dean could only nod. Yes, he’d very much like that. He had nothing against other positions, but he’d always preferred being able to look his partner in the eyes as they fucked. And that was going to be no exception with Alejandro. 

When the other man spread his legs a little wider, pulling one knee up towards his chest, Dean breathed in deeply through his nose and bit his lip for a moment to contain himself. So this was really happening, and very soon - hardly soon enough, because, _fuck_ , Alejandro really looked damn hot like that. 

He quickly grabbed the bottle and squeezed a generous amount of lube on his fingers, maybe a bit too much, but that would probably be better than too little. Leaning above Alejandro, propped on one hand, he brought the other down between his legs, and then, just a second later, his index finger was circling the tight ring of muscle, coaxing it to relax as he rubbed the lube around it. 

Alejandro closed his eyes, lips slightly parted as he let out a slow, soft sigh. “Mmh, that feels good already.” And indeed, Dean felt the muscle soften just as he felt himself get really painfully hard now. “Okay,” Alejandro breathed, “ready when you are.” 

Boy, was he ready. Dean opened the bottle of lube again and coated himself with the clear, slightly sticky liquid before he got between Alejandro’s legs and positioned himself. Yet, despite all his impatience and need to finally be in him, Dean paused there, looking down at the other man’s face, and waited for a final confirmation. 

“Just… slowly in, and then wait ‘til I tell you to move.” 

Dean nodded, again feeling his heartbeat right up to his throat. One hand between them, he guided himself into the right position, and then, slowly, carefully slid in as far as he could without feeling too much resistance. 

Alejandro groaned out, pressed his eyes shut for a moment, and breathed in deeply. His legs both came up a bit higher, calves against the sides of Dean’s hips, and damn, it cost him so much resolve to just remain in this position and not move, because even with being just one or two inches in, it already felt so damned good. 

It took a few more slow breaths from Alejandro, who’d opened his eyes again, until he nodded slowly with a small smile on his lips, and Dean slid into him deeper until he was all the way in, the tightness overwhelming him a little. Or a lot. 

“You can start to move,” Alejandro all but breathed, wrapping his arms around Dean’s upper body and pulling him down. When Dean had caught his breath and gotten used to this intense feeling, he leaned down and let their lips meet for more kisses, slow and open-mouthed, in tune with the measured rhythm Dean was picking up. 

“Okay?” Dean asked softly against Alejandro’s cheek. As an answer, he only felt him nod and then dig his heels into the back of Dean’s thighs to urge him on, and Dean didn’t have to be asked twice. 

He thrust into him a little harder, a little faster, feeling his own breath pick up speed. Even though it all had lasted just a few short minutes, Dean was reaching a point pretty quickly where he knew he’d find it difficult to slow himself down. He was sure that this was _not_ going to take very long. Alejandro was moving with him, hot breath against Dean’s neck, and his muscles tightened around him further every time Dean pushed in, making him wonder when anything had ever felt so intense.

“Not to be an easily excitable teenager, but I’m gonna get close very soon,” he admitted. 

Again, Alejandro let out a small, throaty laugh, and he reached out to take one of Dean’s hands and brought it between their bodies. “Just do what you did earlier, and I won’t be long either.” 

And so he did. Fist wrapped tightly around Alejandro’s dick, Dean let it move in rhythm with his thrusts, doing with his hand what he knew he liked best himself. His reward was a louder, drawn-out moan coming from Alejandro now, who pressed his eyes shut with obvious pleasure. He met Dean’s thrusts eagerly, pulling him in even deeper with the grip of his legs. 

It only went on for a few more minutes. Dean could feel Alejandro squeezing him more tightly and tightly, hear the hitched breaths and see every sign of pleasure on his features. The familiar feeling of something like electricity pooled in the pit of Dean’s stomach and shot through his thighs in rising waves until, with a deep, hoarse groan, he thrust in a final time, hard, and came. 

His fist still around Alejandro, he could feel his dick pulse in his hand, his muscles twitch and tighten around Dean as he followed just seconds later, his come sticky and warm between them. 

Dean sank forward, breathing hard, and it took a moment to collect himself. When he did, looking down at Alejandro’s sweat-covered face, he saw a drop of white on his chin. Without thinking about it, Dean brought his thumb to it, smeared it over Alejandro’s bottom lip, and kissed him deeply, tasting the saltiness of it on his tongue. 

“God, you’re something,” Alejandro breathed out a laugh as he let his face rest against the side of Dean’s. And yeah, that was something he’d never done before. He’d tasted himself on a woman’s lips, but, obviously, never another guy’s come. 

It made him grin against Alejandro’s shoulder, surprised at himself. In an odd, equally surprising sense, almost proud. 

When his breathing had calmed further, Dean reluctantly pushed himself up on one arm. “Okay, I’ve gotta…” He hardly wanted to, but lest he wanted to lose the condom he should pull out, and Alejandro nodded, gripped Dean’s waist, and slowly pushed him off of him. Then he stretched an arm to pull the box of tissues from the nightstand, and Dean wrapped the used condom in one and took a few more to clean Alejandro and himself off. 

Finally, he sank down next to the other man, letting the air of the ceiling fan cool down his body. 

So that was something to tick off of his bucket list. Just that Dean knew now more than ever that it would not be a one-time thing. 

“Hm, you sure you haven’t done this with a guy before?” Alejandro asked softly then, rolling onto his side and letting the fingertips of one hand roam along the side of Dean’s chest. It tickled slightly, and he flinched with a stuttered chuckle. 

“I’ll take the compliment, but no I really haven’t.” 

“You surely are a natural talent then,” Alejandro replied, and Dean couldn’t help feeling smug about himself. He didn’t usually fish for compliments, but hearing that he had pleased his partner always felt good. 

“How about you? Was it what you expected?” Alejandro wanted to know, not shy or insecure in his question but openly interested. 

Dean shrugged at that, grinning as he saw Alejandro’s brows go up a bit. “I’d say it exceeded my expectations.” 

“Mmh, that’s good. I’m glad.” 

They both leaned in a bit closer, Alejandro propping himself up to brush a kiss against Dean’s lips, unhurried and soft, and Dean probably could have fallen asleep just a minute later. He didn’t want to, however. 

“How about we take a shower, get some of that excellent tequila of yours, and see where the night takes us?” 

Alejandro looked down at him, a smirk playing around his lips as he gently patted Dean’s chest. “I like the sound of that.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter finished with less than a week between them. A few notes on the previous chapter and some general ones, before I forget it again ;-) 
> 
> 1\. I read an eye-opening essay on gay sex on LJ a while ago. Sadly, the entry is gone now, but a guy on tumblr summarised it and added a few other details. https://leandraholmes.tumblr.com/post/642390251870044160/gay-sex-is-all-wrong-in-fanfic  
> So, just in case anything in chapter six made you go 'huh? really?' read that post ;-) Read it anyway because it's highly informative. 
> 
> 2\. Whenever something in Spanish comes up, I hope I got these things right. I have a person from Spain helping me with translations, but Mexican Spanish is different in some aspects. If you are Mexican and think I got something wrong or do so in future, please let me know. 
> 
> 3\. I promise and I swear that Destiel is still endgame, though I and my beta reader have fallen in love with Alejandro a bit. I don't know if I mentioned this, but I imagine Alejandro to look like Santiago Cabrera (as he looked in Merlin, later seasons with the shorter hair). 
> 
> 4\. Sam is fucking difficult to write, let me tell you. I mean, I don't claim that I always get Dean 100% right, but Dean has such a vivid, multi-facetted personality, so many interesting quirks, whereas Sam - without wanting to hate on Sam - is written a bit bland in comparison. But I remember that Sam sometimes could be fun, and a little shit ;-) So I hope you enjoy my interpretation of him. 
> 
> 5\. Something I have to admit opely and honestly: I was a little disappointed and also worried about the lack of comments on the previous chapter. Although my beta reader assured me that the scene was great, it made me wonder whether people had not enjoyed it. I do hope you guys are still enjoying it. If that is the case, please do let me know. Or if you have any questions, theories etc. share them. I don't know how many of you write fic yourselves, but if you don't then let me tell you, comments - even if it's just people rambling or screaming or something similar - are the absolute best reward we writers can get. And even though you should write for an audience of one (thanks Metatron), having a slightly bigger audience is immensely motivating and rewarding. So please, IF you enjoy this fic, consider taking a moment and letting me know that you do and why that is. :-)  
> Thank you. 
> 
> And now, without further ado, the next and this time slightly shorter chapter. Hope you like it! :-)

It was a calm night when Dean walked back to the apartment building. The houses around were all dark, the people in them having long gone to bed and nobody awake yet, either. There was just the soft rushing of waves to his left and the faintest, slightly cool breeze on his skin, and Dean was in no rush. 

His muscles ached a little, in all the wrong or maybe right places - his lower back, thighs, upper arms. Hell, he hadn’t had sex in so long it was embarrassing, and it had been even longer since he’d last gone multiple rounds with someone. 

In the shower - their first one that night - neither Dean nor Alejandro had been willing to keep their hands off each other. Wasting more water than was probably sensible, they had been lucky that it only started getting cold when Alejandro came over Dean’s hand. They had laughed about it as they dried themselves off and got dressed, only in their underwear, before they sat down at Alejandro’s small, round dining table to drink some tequila and chat. 

Alejandro had told him about his sister, Gabriela, and how he had learned that all the monsters you heard of through folklore and horror movies were actually real. Dean had kept the conversation focused on this, asking questions rather than talking about his own experiences; as he had said, that would have been a story for an entire night. 

He had also looked at some of Alejandro’s art - modern, expressive paintings in vivid sometimes dark colors, somewhere between abstract and recognizable, definitely interesting and nice to look at. 

It hadn’t taken long, however, and the two men had been all over each other again, going for a somewhat slower round on the bed, switching positions and taking their time, and Dean had enjoyed every minute of it. 

But eventually, long past three in the morning, Alejandro had told Dean that he needed some sleep. He had left the question open whether Dean wanted to stay. It had been more of a gut feeling than a conscious decision for Dean not to. Maybe he was thinking he wouldn’t be able to resist the other man and wanted to get some sleep himself, too. Maybe he simply didn’t want Sam to wake up in a few hours and find the second bed empty. Or maybe it was something else altogether. Something similar to the feeling he now felt spreading slowly, subtly in his chest. 

He stopped on his way and sat down on the dry sand, a few yards away from the surf, and let his gaze drift out. The full moon shone brightly behind him, illuminating the waves just enough to make out the shapes. There was something calm and soothing about, but at the same time, there was still that odd, heavy feeling in Dean’s middle, fighting with the elation at the night’s events and the contentments of his body. 

The truth was, no matter how much he had enjoyed himself tonight and how much he wanted to feel anything but guilty about this, a small part of him did. Not because it was wrong or shameful. Surprisingly and to his relief, he had felt none of that - no more internal rejection and judgment. Being with another man, with Alejandro, had felt good and natural and rewarding. What he did feel guilty about was not having realized all this sooner, and he wondered - trying not to, not to think of it, not to imagine it, but failing - what it would have been like. With Cas. 

Dean pressed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, and inhaled deeply through his nose. 

“I’m sorry.” The soft whisper escaped him. “I’ve always been such an idiot.” 

A tiny, regretful, and somewhat bitter, huffed chuckle came over his lips, and he breathed in deeply once more, tasting the salt in the air on his tongue, feeling the crispness of it in his nose as he tried to chase everything away. Just watching the waves and trying to think of nothing, and after a while, he succeeded. 

A little while later, he began feeling his eyelids getting heavy, and he was shivering slightly in the cool night air. And so, he got up, brushed the sand from his jeans, and made his way back to the apartment. He tried to be quiet as he entered just by the light of his phone, kicked off his shoes, and got out of his shirt and jeans. When he opened a drawer in the dresser to put on a t-shirt, he heard a faint, sleepy groan from his brother and then, softly, “Dean?” 

“Get back to sleep,” he answered in a low voice as he pulled back the covers of his bed. 

“What time is it?” another question with a drowsy voice. 

“Late. Just sleep, Sammy.” Dean was way too tired to have any kind of conversation with his brother now, least of all the awkward one that would surely unfold. 

Apparently, his brother seemed to get it, turned around, and soon was breathing evenly and slowly in his sleep, and Dean followed just a few minutes later, the sounds of the waves coming in through the half-open balcony door making it a lot easier to focus on nothing but that. 

It was when he woke up, the sun shining brightly in, that his brain caught a first conscious and coherent thought, and, to the delight of his still somewhat sleepy mind, it was a good one, letting his heart rate pick up and a small grin form on his lips. 

“At least someone’s in a good mood,” he heard from the direction of the entrance, blinked the sleep from his eyes, and then saw Sam standing there, dressed in long shorts and a loose-cut t-shirt. 

Dean rubbed his face with one hand and propped himself up on his elbows, and, yeah, his chest muscles ached a bit too, making him wince slightly, and grin again before he was awake enough to realize he had company. 

And sure enough, Sam did that whole facial gymnastics thing as he regarded him - something between curious and an ‘I don’t even wanna know, let me get out of here’ puppy dog stare. 

“And you aren’t?” Dean asked, evading the topic and seeing his brother’s features relax into an annoyed glare that preceded a low groan. 

“You’d think with us having killed countless monsters I’d be able to handle one lousy mosquito,” he said, and Dean noticed then that he had a plastic bag in one hand, which he now set down on the small dining table to sit at it and take out the contents. 

“Kept you up?” Dean asked. 

“Tried to eat me alive,” Sam replied and opened a styrofoam bowl before he got a spoon from the kitchen drawer. “I got you a breakfast burrito.” 

“Awesome,” Dean replied and got up from the bed. He definitely also needed coffee, but before he could have said anything, Sam also took a large plastic cup from the bag, and Dean sat down at the table to take a first, careful sip to assess the temperature - thankfully, not too hot to drink right away. 

“So you got it in the end?” he asked.

“Huh?” Sam replied, chewing a spoonful of what looked like some fruity quinoa bowl. “Oh, yeah. Only took me until around 2 am and at least ten bites, but yeah. Sent it straight to hell.” 

Dean huffed out a chuckle. “Did you salt and burn the body? Wouldn’t want it to haunt you the next night.” 

Sam snorted. “I’m sure it’s got friends. I definitely have to keep the doors closed while I’ve still got the light on tonight. I mean… we,” he quickly amended. “Whatever your plans are.”

And, yeah, he was trying to weasel that out of him after all. Just that Dean had no idea what his plans were yet. 

Last night had been great, amazing even, and Alejandro was great company even without the sex. But it wasn’t like Dean was… _dating_ him now. Hell, he’d rarely done that with women, and this whole thing with guys - one guy - was still way too fresh to even be thinking of something other than a casual thing. But casual didn’t mean there could be no repeats.

As Dean took a few bites of his burrito - which tasted delicious, cheesy and savory with just the right amount of freshness to it, too - he noticed that Sam kept looking at him, his curiosity battling with the ‘I don’t even want to know’ expression very obviously on his features. 

“Anything you wanna say?” he asked with an annoyance that wasn’t entirely serious. 

“I, uh, no,” Sam lied, rather quickly. 

“Good,” Dean replied and took another bite, washing it down with some of the coffee. 

“So, uh,” Sam cleared his throat a short while later, after all. “What are your plans for today? I mean… look, if you want to spend more time with Alejandro that’s totally--”

“He’s working,” Dean cut him off. “Gotta run his bar.”

“I’m just saying. If you wanted to, it’s fine.” 

Dean appreciated that. After all, it was he and his brother who were on this trip together - not like a hunting trip where both of them enjoyed some downtime to themselves after working a case all day. Dean wanted to make the best of it too because he didn’t know when or if they’d ever spend time together like that again. 

“Yeah, okay. Thanks,” he said and decided to give his brother a somewhat smug smirk. “But I don’t usually need your permission.” 

“Of course you don’t need my permission,” Sam replied, more seriously instead of taking the bait and joking back. “I’m just saying. It’s _really_ fine for me.” 

“Alright, great, thanks,” Dean said. This was getting somewhat awkward again. “Can we talk about something else?” 

There was a pause and Sam looked at him, brow very subtly furrowed, his expression still rather serious, and Dean wondered what awkward and completely unnecessary thing he might say next. 

“So, did you use protection?” Oh, that little shit.

“Shut your face!” Even before Dean coughed, having swallowed his bite of the burrito a little too quickly, Sam’s serious face had turned to an amused, big, self-satisfied grin, and he was laughing now, low in the back of his throat. 

“Of course we did. Do you think I’m an idiot?” 

Sam still laughed faintly, and yeah, although Dean could have punched him in the face, this was kinda nice. Pulling each other’s legs about things that had nothing to do with hunting - they hadn’t had much time for jokes the past few years. 

“Never doubted it,” Sam said after a moment, and Dean briefly wondered whether he referred to him using protection or being an idiot. “I just wanted to see your face.”

“Yeah. Hilarious. And now shut up and eat your breakfast.” 

His face surely must have turned a little red over the past few exchanges, at least Dean could feel his cheeks heating up noticeably. He took a large swig of his coffee to hide behind the cup. 

Sam spared them both any further remarks. 

It was later at the beach when they had found their spots and were lying down and Dean saw Alejandro again. He was walking towards the elderly couple with a tray of some fruity smoothies and, catching Dean’s gaze, smiled at him and winked. Dean, who couldn’t and didn’t want to stop himself, gave him _The Look_ , only then becoming aware of his brother being right beside him on the next beach chair, having seen the whole thing. And, teasing remarks be damned, Dean decided not to give a rat’s ass about it this time. 

“No avocado abomination for you today?” he asked instead, casually teasing and heard his brother snort while Dean was settling down to lie comfortably on his back, sunglasses on and feeling the heat on his skin. 

“Funny.”

“I know. I’m fucking hilarious,” Dean replied smugly and then turned his head to look at his brother briefly, squinting against the bright light. “It’s actually a pretty good name.” 

“It kinda is,” Sam replied, amused, sitting on his chair with the backrest half-titled, a paperback in hands, and maybe Dean should have brought a book, too. That’s what people did on beaches, usually, lying in the sun and reading. Just that he thought he didn’t have the attention for it with too much going on around them. 

He’d go swimming again in a bit anyway, and then he’d get a drink and say hi to Alejandro, lay in the sun some more, and work on his already developing tan. And he definitely also caught Alejandro in the men’s room as he was washing his hands and, not able to help himself or wanting to, pushed him against the wall next to the sink and pressed their lips together, catching a breathless moan between them. 

“Juana is taking the late shift today,” he said in a low voice, warm breath on Dean’s cheek. “If you want to come over tonight I’m free after eight.” 

And yes. Dean wanted that, without a shadow of a doubt.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you all so much for the lovely comments for the last chapter and in retrospect the one before. That really made my days!! :-) 
> 
> My beta-reader was really quick with the next chapter, so I shall not withhold it any longer. However, I'm not sure how quick she'll be with the next. As of now, I'm not aiming for a fixed posting schedule but just gonna post the chapters whenever they're done. 
> 
> This next one should be interesting, I hope. Alejandro is still curious about Dean and Sam's story as hunters, so Dean's gonna shed some light on that. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you thought.

Dean sank back into the mattress, breathing hard as Alejandro slid off him. He lay down next to Dean to catch his breath before both of them turned their heads and looked at each other. 

“That was… something,” Alejandro said around a small grin, which Dean returned readily, one eyebrow going upwards as he shrugged. He really enjoyed hearing that. 

“Did you… hold out on purpose, or do we just have impeccable timing?” 

Another shrug and a smug expression he knew he was wearing. “Guess it comes with the experience.” Of course, it didn’t work every time, but Dean had always enjoyed at least trying to make the women he slept with come at the same time as him… if he hadn’t already made them come a few times before. There was something that went beyond one’s physical relief when both partners reached orgasm simultaneously. It was also really convenient because bringing up the focus to get your partner to completion once you lay there, spent and exhausted, was definitely more work. 

There was no difference in that with Alejandro just because he was a guy. While they had been lucky the first time around and didn’t succeed with the timing the second, this time, the novelty of the whole thing had worn off a little, and Dean had been able to focus more on technique rather than being overwhelmed by all the new sensations. 

Though it had not been that easy, watching Alejandro riding him, his firm but lean muscles in his upper body straining with each move - it had been hard not to let himself finish sooner at the sight and the sounds he was releasing. 

As soon as his heart rate was back to normal, his breath having calmed, Dean noticed how sticky he felt. His right hand and his upper body were covered in Alejandro’s come, and he was sweaty all over, the ceiling fan alone not doing the trick to cool the hut down enough while it was still early in the evening. Maybe they should head for a shower, but Alejandro seemed to have something else in mind. He reached for a pack of wet wipes from his nightstand drawer and handed one to Dean to wrap the used condom in it. Then, he gently started to clean the mess off of Dean’s skin, leaning in to brush small kisses to his lips, cheek and chin. 

“Well, I’m glad you have the experience,” he said, handing Dean another wipe to clean his hands. “Even if it wasn’t with men. But, you know, experience isn’t everything. I’ve had guys who fucked everything from here to Guatemala and still focused more on their own pleasure than mine. So, this… that’s something. And I’m sure you’ll make many women and men very happy in the future.” He patted Dean’s stomach lightly as he got up, took the dirty wipes, and disappeared into the bathroom. 

Dean just lay there, basking in the afterglow, one arm drawn up, hand at the back of his neck. The sound of music came from the bar; somehow, it sounded louder tonight than the previous ones, and Dean briefly wondered whether that was deliberate. He was sure they hadn’t been very quiet. 

When Alejandro came out of the bathroom he was dressed in a pair of swim trunks that he’d probably hung over the shower to dry. He went to the kitchenette and poured them both a glass of water and some tequila. He set the water down on the nightstand and handed Dean the hard liquor, bringing their glasses together. 

“Salud.”

“Salud,” Dean replied, liking the sound of the foreign word on his tongue more and more. And what he liked, even more, was the taste of the tequila on Alejandro’s lips as he leaned in for a deep but leisurely kiss. 

“So, how about some music?” Alejandro asked. “I mean… other than the background noise. What are you into?”

“Hm, rock, mostly,” Dean replied, sensing that this might be something where their tastes differed somewhat significantly. “Some blues, some swamp rock, some heavy metal.” 

“Ah.” Alejandro raised his eyebrows and chuckled slightly. “Old-fashioned, then.” 

“Hey, it’s not old-fashioned,” Dean replied a bit defensively as he watched Alejandro walk over to his stereo and take out his phone, probably to connect it via bluetooth. “I mean, I listen to…” He tried to come up with some more recent artists but failed miserably.

“Yeah?”

“Okay, you caught me. But old-fashioned isn’t bad.”

Alejandro smiled over at him. “I never said it was. Okay, how about this. A Mexican blues band my father enjoyed, _Real de Cartoce_.” 

“Great, now you’re comparing me to your dad,” Dean said somewhat more dramatically than necessary as he sank back into the pillow and heard Alejandro laugh softly. 

“I didn’t say that,” he said as the first, very recognizable blues-rock-typical notes sounded through the speaker.” 

“How old are you anyway? I never asked,” Dean wanted to know, still wondering. He was sure Alejandro was a few years younger, just not how many. 

“Well, I am of legal age,” Alejandro replied, grinning slightly, and Dean did too, despite rolling his eyes. 

“Thirty-four.”

Seven, almost eight years - not _too_ much of a difference, at least not once you’ve reached your thirties. “I’m forty-one.” 

“Yeah, you said so,” Alejandro reminded him. Dean had forgotten that. 

“Oh, right. And wow, you remembered.” 

“I remember a lot of things,” Alejandro replied, now sitting down comfortably on the armchair between the stereo and a table with art supplies. “For example, how you said the story of your and Sam’s hunting adventures was one for an entire night. And since it’s only half-past ten…” 

Dean took a deep breath, rolling his eyes slightly, more to himself as he listened to the music that, admittedly, wasn’t bad at all even though he couldn’t understand the lyrics.   
And yeah, he had said that the other day. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to talk about hunting at all, just that… there were many topics he’d rather not talk about. 

“It’s a really long story. I wouldn’t even know where to start,” he said, trying to evade the whole thing gently. “And you wouldn’t believe half of it.” 

“Try me,” Alejandro just replied with a challenging glance. He had picked up a sketchbook and a pencil and looked to Dean over its edge. 

Dean furrowed his brow. “Are you drawing me?” 

“Yeah,” was all that Alejandro replied. 

Dean felt, if slightly strange, kind of flattered. No one had ever drawn him. “Draw me like one of your French boys,” he couldn’t help but say, grinning. 

“I’ve never had a French boy.” Had it not been for the subtle smirk and the slightly raised eyebrow, Alejandro’s words would have almost set something loose in Dean. Minus the sarcasm, it really sounded like something Cas could have said, and Dean felt the grin fade from his features at that thought. 

“So what? You want to draw me or listen to the story? Because I can’t talk without moving my mouth.” 

“I can do both. It’s not that difficult, actually. You just might have to hold still for a moment later,” Alejandro explained as his pencil was gliding over the paper. 

“Okay, fine,” he started, pondering where to begin and how to make the epic long-ass tale of the Winchesters at least somewhat shorter. “Hm, did you ever watch Lost? The TV show?” 

Alejandro looked up, gaze slightly quizzical. “Yes, I did.” 

Dean made a waving motion with his hand and then remembered that Alejandro was drawing him, so he tried to lie somewhat still. “Okay, so you remember how at first you think they’re just up against one thing, but then other parties come into play, and at some point, they have to team up with people that previously were their enemies. Their allegiances shift because there’s an even bigger enemy, and then some batshit crazy stuff pops up left and right, and it all just gets more and more chaotic?”

“Uh, yes?”

“It was kinda like that,” Dean replied, though that hardly explained things sufficiently. “And man, I just remembered how shitty that ending was.”

Alejandro gave a soft, snorted chuckle at that, rolling his eyes. “Oh God, yes. Thanks for bringing back those traumatic memories.”

“Sorry,” Dean grinned and then quickly brought his tequila glass to his lips to down it, careful to get back into the same position he was in previously.

“So what were those other parties and enemies?” Alejandro asked. “I’m really curious.” 

“Well, you know there’s demons, but…” Dean honestly didn’t know how to get ten plus years of new insanely outlandish discoveries and enemies into words, at least not if he didn’t want to keep on talking the entire night. And the next part also didn’t come over his lips easily. “There’s angels, too, and--”

“Angels?” Alejandro asked, eyes widened, his sketchbook briefly sinking to his knees. “So those are real?” 

Dean gave a soft chuckle and tried to think of Anna, Gabriel, Balthazar, even Uriel, and whoever else they’d crossed paths with. “Yeah, they are. There’s angels, archangels, the whole deal. We even met all of them. The archangels, that is.” 

Alejandro’s eyes were still wide; lips parted slightly. “Okay. That’s going to take a moment to sink in. I mean, I knew bits about the Apocalypse having sort of almost happened, so I guess… since Lucifer is a fallen angel… Still, though. Blows my mind a little.”

“Yeah, the Apocalypse,” Dean said, and, with a half-sarcastic chuckle, added, “Good times.”

Alejandro just gave him a surprised look but then shook his head, lowering his gaze back to the paper to continue to draw. “Go on.”

For a moment, Dean wondered if there were things he better shouldn’t tell him. Not because they were too difficult to talk about but because, at the end of the day, Alejandro wasn’t even a hunter. He just knew of them, knew of some monsters but nothing of the big picture. On the other hand, Dean also couldn’t think of any harm that could come with letting him know more. And so he continued. 

“So, uh… maybe creatures first, then. So, aside from regular demons, there are higher-ranking ones, knights of hell; they’re a real bitch to kill, Next are princes of hell, and then, there’s, or there was, also a king of hell. He was one of those unlikely allies on occasion.” 

“You... teamed up with the… king of hell?” Alejandro asked, just raising his gaze above the sketchbook now. “So my sister wasn’t exaggerating when she said other hunters told her about things I couldn’t even begin to imagine.” 

“Yeah, though, to be fair, most other hunters probably weren’t in the center of attention of all of heaven and hell’s forces as we were.” The moment Dean said it, he realized it might sound a bit arrogant. He chuckled at Alejandro’s continuously astounded look and shrugged, making another waving motion with his hand. 

“Uh… that’s a _really_ long story. But, um… back to the King of Hell.” And that was definitely easier to talk about than how the forces of darkness - or Chuck, actually - had prepared this long game with their parents, the apocalypse, and everything in between that had shaped and predestined his and Sam’s entire path. 

“We worked together sometimes. After we almost healed him - that is, uh, there’s this ritual that allows you to turn a demon back into a human by giving them human blood and doing a few other things. And, well, we didn’t fully succeed... but he was almost decent after that.” Despite all the awful and despicable things Crowley had done, Dean felt an almost reminiscent smile on his lips, thinking of him. If anyone had told him that several years ago, he’d have declared them insane, but there he was, thinking back to their unlikeliest ally. “Saved our lives, too, he did. But he died in the process. Now his mom’s the Queen of hell. She’s a good friend of ours. Three-hundred-something-year-old witch.”

“Of course…” Alejandro breathed out a chuckle, though it did not seem like he didn’t believe Dean. 

“Feisty little thing she is. Scottish, redhead.” 

Alejandro’s brows went up a little higher at that, a smirk on one corner of his mouth. “Did you and her...?” 

“Oh, no. No, it wasn’t anything like that. She was always more close to my brother. Not that there was ever anything there either,” he quickly added, just so refraining from mentioning that, _had_ something happened between them, it wouldn’t have been the first time Sam had gotten involved with someone who fit more in the side of monsters than humans. He remembered another story, instead. Grinning, he continued, “We walked in on her, almost screwing Gabriel the one time, though. That is… the archangel Gabriel.”

Alejandro let the sketchbook sink once more and gave Dean a look with slightly narrowed eyes. “Okay. Now you’re pulling my leg.” 

“I’m not,” Dean replied, smirking.

“I can’t believe it,” Alejandro replied, though, again, Dean was confident he did, incredulous though he was. 

“Still not the craziest thing we’ve come across in all these years. Wait ‘til I get to the part where our foster-son, who’s the literal spawn of Satan, Lucifer, is now God.” And maybe that had been a bit too much to reveal on the first occasion, but there was a part of Dean that just ached to talk about all these things like it was something normal, with someone who wasn’t directly involved in all of it. 

It really must have come as a surprise, though. Alejandro set the sketchbook aside and went back to the kitchenette, pouring himself another tequila, and Dean had to laugh at that. 

“Why do I even consider believing you?” Alejandro asked as he came over to the bed with the bottle and poured Dean some more. 

“I’d like to think it’s because of my charming looks and my trust-worthy aura?” 

Alejandro let out a soft sigh around a grin. Then he set his glass down on the nightstand and let himself sink down next to Dean, one hand lazily brushing delicate patterns on the skin of Dean’s stomach, above the edge of the bed sheet. 

“That must be it, because I’m not very naive or gullible. At least not for some years.” 

“Pity, I’d have tried to sneak an untrue story in there somewhere. See if you’d catch me on that.” 

“Maybe not,” Alejandro huffed. 

“Is your drawing finished?” Dean wanted to know then, thinking maybe they should change the topic. Or should get back to having sex because the way his fingers ran over Dean’s stomach sent tingles down to his dick already. 

“No, I just needed a break. What you’re telling me _is_ a bit much to process.” He said this with a lightness though, that made Dean not regret it. 

“Sorry about that, but you asked.” 

“I know. And before I get back to that whole thing with Lucifer’s son being… God now? I-- no, actually, let’s start right there. Was there another God before that? And what happened to him?” 

Dean let out a deep breath through his nose, looking up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to swallow the rage he still felt at Chuck before he answered. “He got what he deserved. He wasn’t the benevolent father they tell you about in Sunday school, you know? He was a real douchebag. He played with people and their fate just for his entertainment, and when things didn’t go as he wanted them to, he threw a hissy fit and killed everything and everyone that got in the way of his vision of a perfect story. And a shitty story that was, mind you.” 

The smile was gone from Alejandro’s features now, replaced by a gaze full of sympathy. He leaned up on one elbow and brought his lips to Dean’s, and Dean took the bit of comfort that lay in the gesture gratefully. 

“But he’s gone now,” Dean tried for a lighter tone. “And Jack - that is the boy who I called our foster-son - he’s gonna do a much better job at it.” At least, Dean believed that. Or the most significant part of him did. There was just a small part left that he now, again, pushed back into a far corner of his mind, one that reminded him that Jack had not done all he could and maybe should have. 

“Now I get it why you said you wished you were an atheist, too,” Alejandro said before a frown formed on his face. “And my entire world-view has just been uprooted. This has completely blown my mind.”

“Sorry?” Dean offered, with a faint chuckle, and Alejandro let out one too, paired with a sigh. 

“Seriously, if that whole story were a TV show, it would be the craziest thing ever. Not sure anyone would watch that, though. I mean, it sounds very controversial.”

Dean had to laugh at that. “Oh, don’t be so sure. The books have many fans too.”

“The what?” Alejandro looked at Dean in surprise, and Dean realized that he did not want to elaborate and probably shouldn’t have mentioned it. 

“Uh, nevermind,” he said quickly, and though Alejandro’s gaze remained quizzical, he relaxed again, lying back down next to Dean and not prodding any further. 

“Can I ask another thing, though?” he started after a moment, and Dean turned his head to look at him and prompted him to go on with a nod. 

“You mentioned angels. What are they like?” There was the hint of a dreamy look on Alejandro’s features now, and even though Dean had no idea what that meant exactly, he could hazard a guess. Alejandro wouldn’t be the first or last person who had heard romanticized stories about angels, particularly in their childhood.Especially in a predominantly Catholic country like Mexico, it was likely that he, too, had been told by a parent or close relative that angels were watching over him. 

It was impossible not to think of Cas this time, not to let the image of his face stir in his mind, his bright blue eyes and the occasionally dreamy, often perpetually confused and sometimes deep - too deep to describe with words - gaze in them. Dean had to swallow, and he reached over to the nightstand for the water glass, taking a few large swigs. 

“They-- they’re… In a way, they’re like people. Some of them are dicks; others aren’t. They try their best to do what’s right. And they’re powerful. Not your fairytale guardian angel but warriors. There aren’t that many left, though; which is another long-ass story and mostly Ch-- God’s fault. The old God’s.” 

“Did you ever work with any of them too?” 

It was a perfectly understandable question, but it caused a knot to form in Dean’s throat, making it hard to swallow his emotions. The prolonged pause prompted Alejandro to look at him again, his eyebrows knitted together, but then the understanding spread across his features. If not for any details, then at least for the fact that the topic troubled Dean, so much so that he downed the remainder of his tequila and tried hard to think of other angels that weren’t Cas. At long last, he forced a small smile. “Well, I mentioned Gabriel earlier. We teamed up with him. And a few others.” 

Sensing that the topic was back in calmer waters, Alejandro nodded with a faint smile on his lips. “Ah, so you teamed up with an Archangel and the Queen of hell--”

“She was just a witch, then. But yes.” 

“Well,” Alejandro started and pushed himself back up in a sitting position. “That will all take a while to sink in. If I hear any more tonight, I’m not sure I’ll be of any use for anything else.” He gave Dean a quick peck to the corner of his mouth and with it a promise. And yes, that was certainly better than talking about his life story. 

“But first, I’ll finish the drawing. If you don’t mind…” 

“Sure. Go ahead, Picasso,” Dean replied, humour coming more easily than he would have expected. He gave the other man a crooked little smirk when Alejandro let his fingertips slide down Dean’s chest as he got up from the bed. Then, he walked back over to where he had been sitting earlier and continued his drawing. 

And so they didn’t talk about angels or demons any more that night. Instead, Alejandro told him about art school and about the music he enjoyed - many Latin bands, and some American indie artists, as well as a few classics they both enjoyed. Twenty minutes later, he had finished the drawing, and it took Dean’s breath away a little because, attractive though he knew he was, Dean had never seen himself so beautiful. It even made him blush, which made Alejandro laugh and ended with them rolling around on the bed until Dean had him pinned down, ankles on Dean’s shoulders, and he didn’t think of anything but how hot the sight in front of him was and how great it felt to fuck him. 

That night, when Dean was back in his and Sam’s apartment, he dreamed of Cas for the first time. He saw blue eyes piercing him, sweat on his skin as their bodies entwined. It was a mercy that, long after he had woken up in the middle of the night - hard in his shorts and his face wet with tears - he’d forgotten the dream again when the bright sunlight woke him up in the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's another chapter, a bit sooner than expected because my beta-reader was quick. :-)  
> In this chapter, I finally got to explore something that is an integral part of Dean's personality and past (and it's not going to be the last of it, either). I'm curious what you think about how I approached the topic. 
> 
> Also, I have to make a note here to thank the Destiel fandom in general, because over the past few months since the show ended, clever people have come up with analysis and interpretation of so many interesting details and facts - such as the one I'm referencing in this chapter. You'll see when you get there. Anyway... without those people I'd have had a lot less material to write about. So thanks for all the inspiration! 
> 
> Oh, and, there's some Spanish here in this chapter. Thanks to my friend Tomoe for doing the translations for me. Translations at the end.

“Today, we’re doing something different.” 

Sam announced this, smacking Dean’s leg a little too forcefully and leaving no room for objections. 

Dean rubbed his eyes, wincing as his mind struggled to wake up fully, and his eyes adjusted to the bright light inside their apartment. 

“Mmph,” he just grunted, a yawn escaping him as he stretched his limbs on the bed. Then, as he finally found his voice, “Dude, what the hell? I was sleeping.”

Sam just looked down at him, hands on hips, brows raised and giving him a crooked smirk. “Yeah. I can see that. So get up, get dressed. We’re going quad riding.” 

Dean let out another grunt, trying to decide whether he’d prefer just to roll over and sleep. But then his nostrils picked up the scent of coffee, freshly brewed, and maybe that was reason enough to get up. 

“Did you say… quad riding?” Dean asked at last as he got out of bed and went over to the table where Sam had already poured him a large mug of coffee. 

“Yeah, there are some dunes just a bit up the beach, and you can rent quads there. Alejandro told me.” 

“When?” Dean asked, only partially surprised that something tingled in his middle at the mention of the name. 

“Just now,” Sam replied just as Dean also spotted the green liquid in a transparent plastic cup that stood in front of Sam, next to another plastic bag which he assumed - hoped - was breakfast for him. 

“What time is it even?” 

“It’s past ten,” Sam replied a little teasingly. “Dude, since when do you sleep that long? You rarely used to get more than five or six hours.” 

“I’m on vacation,” Dean shot back and, after his first sip of coffee, finished the math in his head, realizing he had slept a good seven hours last night. 

He felt a rush of pity towards Alejandro, who, having to open up his bar and serving questionable breakfast smoothies to Dean’s brother, must have gotten a lot less than that. At least Alejandro didn’t have to make his breakfast too. That would have been a bit more time-consuming, Dean thought as he opened the styrofoam container from the bag that Sam brought. There was a large serving of scrambled egg, with bits of vegetables in, along with some black beans and two soft, warm tortillas. 

As he took the first spoonful of eggs, tasting the slight spiciness of chili peppers and the freshness of tomatoes in them, his mood instantly picked up. He just could have done with a bit of meat in the dish, too, but that was only a small downside. 

“Man, Mexicans really know how to do breakfast,” Dean said, just swallowing a second mouthful, and Sam gave him a small, content smile. 

“So, when did you get back last night,” Sam asked casually.

Dean let out a huffy grunt. “What? You’re keeping tabs on me now?”

“No. I just wanted to figure out if I should feel guilty about waking you up. In the middle of the day.” And there was the sarcasm again. Dean would have thrown some beans in his face if they weren’t so delicious. 

“Two-thirty-ish,” he replied instead. “And I swear if you ask me again if we used protection, I’m going to cut your heart out with this spoon,” he said, lifting it threateningly for a moment and inwardly grinning at the reference he’d just made. 

Sam just briefly rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t gonna ask that.” After a sip of his avocado smoothie - though it looked a bit darker today; maybe it was kale, Dean hated kale - Sam continued, “He’s a really nice guy. Alejandro.” 

“Hm, yeah,” Dean said curtly, careful not to put any emotion in his reply because he knew where Sam was going with this, and Dean wasn’t playing along. 

“And he knows we’re hunters.” Dean had told Sam this over dinner the other day, after his first conversation with Alejandro about hunting, and he wondered very briefly what Sam would think if he told him how much more he had spilled last night. “So,” Sam went on,” that’s great, I guess. Makes things less complicated.” 

“Sam!” Dean said in a reprimanding tone, but his brother shrugged and lifted his hands without any sense of guilt.

“What?”

“It’s just a casual vacation fling. Why do _you_ have to make it complicated?” 

“I’m not. I’m just saying,” Sam replied without really saying _what_ he was saying, and Dean was not taking the bait. 

He knew his brother meant well, and yes, sometimes summer flings could turn into more. Still, even if that were in the books for either of them, the guy lived in Mexico, and Dean surely wasn’t going to drop everything and never return home because of the first guy he’d ever fucked and only known for three whole days. He’d have liked to say that all out loud to Sam, but this whole talking about feelings stuff had never been his thing. 

“So, what else did you tell him?” Sam asked and quickly added in an innocently interested tone, “about hunting, I mean.” 

“Why are you asking?” Dean sent the question back, chewing on a piece of tortilla. 

“Oh, we talked about his sister and her husband earlier. And he mentioned something about them not having seen nearly as much as we did.”

“He was curious,” Dean explained, swallowing another swig of coffee. “And it’s not like the guy didn’t already know, so I told him a few things. Just a rough overview of stuff, though. If I’d gone much into detail, I’d still be sitting there,” he finished with a chuckle. 

Sam nodded a few times, brows going up briefly. “So it didn’t freak him out or anything?” 

“Nope,” Dean replied, again wondering where his brother was going with this, but Sam said nothing after that, just finished his smoothie and started clearing the table, content with that response. 

He didn’t mention Alejandro again when they headed to the _Dunas Doradas_ a while later, dressed in beach shorts and t-shirts, which had been a perfect choice. Sweaty and heated from the bright sunlight as they were after cruising over the far-stretching sand dunes for an hour or so, they cooled off in the ocean, finding the strip of shore utterly devoid of any other people. 

Dean automatically thought how nice it’d be to be here with someone other than a relative, and his mind equally automatically, for a very short moment, conjured up the image of Alejandro. And yeah, maybe making out in the surf was something he’d fantasized about whenever he had imagined himself at a beach. Still didn’t mean that anything Sam had been trying to imply or weasel out of Dean about him and Alejandro earlier applied in this case. He was just having a good time, and Alejandro had shown no indication that he expected anything different from him. How could he even, with their respective lives being almost two thousand miles apart? 

No, this was fine. It was no more and no less than Dean wanted at this point, and he was going to enjoy it for as long as it lasted. 

What he neither could nor wanted to deny, however, was the fact that his body unconsciously reacted to Alejandro when he saw him later that night and after Dean and Sam returned from a somewhat early dinner trip to the city center. It was no surprise, really - the fact that his body remembered all the admittedly really great sex they had had. Dean had to breathe in a little deeper to force the images to the back of his mind, lest he wanted to jump the other man right there at the bar, with quite a large crowd of patrons around. 

Instead, he just shot him a grin and ordered beer and tequilas for him and Sam and left the man to his work. Juana was there to help again, but for the moment, Alejandro seemed busy. He did smile at Dean brightly, though, and, between pouring the drinks, asked about their day before the next patrons caught his attention. 

Stepping out again, they noticed that pretty much all tables were fully occupied. So they did what Dean had also wanted to do when thinking of this vacation: they mingled with the locals. They met some of Alejandro’s friends who sat around the largest table, close to the bar, and although they were all a couple of years younger than them - some even ten or more years - Dean had a good time. A great one, even. The four girls and three guys treated them almost like old friends. Despite the language barrier - not all of them could speak English very well, and only Sam could hold a very basic conversation in Spanish - they welcomed them warmly and openly. Dean realized that, on all their travels, they had rarely ever allowed themselves to connect with people just for the sake of the good company. 

Sure, both he and Sam had flirted their way through the entire Midwest and beyond, but sitting together with people, just chatting about completely mundane things like they were just some dudes on a fun trip and not two hunters - well, that had never really been in the books. They had always had to maintain their role, to some extent, and Dean felt such relief at not having to do that tonight, at simply drinking and talking and laughing, hearing everyday stories of other peoples’ lives. It only got a bit tricky when they had to come up with something about their own lives, but the white lie they gave wasn’t even that big. Dean said they ran a small business for private security, and Sam explained he did a lot of research on the side, and, with copious amounts of alcohol consumed around the table, that was enough of an answer. 

A little later, one topic that came up caused the group’s mood to shift to a more serious one. Raúl, who was sitting there next to his boyfriend, Fernando, started talking about his parents and his father in particular. It was a story like one everybody had heard somewhere, or seen in a movie or TV series, and Raúl spoke of it with little regret, just some residual bitterness, and anger when he explained how his father had hit him and then kicked him out after finding out his son was gay. 

For some reason, it felt like someone had punched Dean in the gut, though, and for the first time since he had come to terms with his feelings, with his _sexuality_ , he felt something akin to shame. And beyond that, even, as ridiculous it was, fear. Fear of what his dad would say or would have said if he knew. 

It was both a blessing and a curse that, at that moment, Alejandro came to their table with two fresh margarita pitchers. He smacked Dean’s shoulder in a casual gesture and looked at him and Sam with a wide smile. 

“Are my friends behaving?” 

“I’m not sure,” Dean replied, trying to force his thoughts or the way that physical contact made him feel for a split-second to the back of his mind. He put on a smirk. “I mean, I understand only half of what they’re saying, so I really couldn’t tell.”

There was laughter and playful protest from the group, and an even wider grin on Alejandro’s lips as he looked at Raúl and Fernando in particular. “ _Cuidado con lo que dices, chicos. Aquí Sam entiende español bastante bien_.” 

“Damn. You blew my cover,” Sam replied with a chuckle, and Alejandro gave him a mischievous wink. 

“ _Jandro, ven, siéntate con nosotros_ ,” Maria said, but Alejandro looked over his shoulder to the bar and the beach before he turned back, releasing a small sigh. 

“Maybe later, it looks hectic tonight,” he replied in English, and yes, Dean was quite sure he was addressing him, too. “I just can’t leave Juana to run the bar alone. Tomorrow, it’s looking a bit different because I have Gerardo helping out, too. But… I could use an early, quiet evening staying in.” He had turned to pick up some of the glasses and wipe the table, for a short moment only facing Dean, and he gave him a look that very clearly said that the last bit of information was meant for him. 

“You’re getting old, Jandro. There’s a big party downtown tomorrow. You should join us.” 

Alejandro laughed softly at Raúl. “And you never grow up.” 

There was some more chatter, this time in rapid Spanish, so Dean couldn’t even follow and guess what they were saying. A minute later, Alejandro excused himself and went back inside to help Juana with the next orders. 

Dean felt strangely… torn. He should be looking forward to spending the night with Alejandro again tomorrow, and the most significant part of him did. But there was also this strange, heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach that darkened his good mood, and it didn’t entirely go away, even when, much later, he and Sam wished everyone a good night and walked back along the beach to their apartment building. 

They were both quiet as they walked, and Dean could sense Sam’s gaze on him without looking, noticed how he was lagging behind just to keep the pace of their walk slow. Dean really shouldn’t be surprised or even annoyed that he knew, correctly, that his brother was going to address the elephant in the room. He definitely wasn’t going to beat him to it, though. 

“Did dad ever--” Sam now stopped completely, and Dean breathed in slowly, pressing his eyes shut for a moment as he, too, halted in his steps. He did not turn around to his brother. 

“I mean, did he suspect? Was it something he said or did, or… Was that why you never--?”

Dean wanted to brush it off, to deny all his brother’s questions and just let it rest, let it rest with his father and the complicated relationship they had had. But another part of him, one that still felt vague and fuzzy, difficult to grasp, wanted out, wanted to understand and to learn and not deny and ignore. 

“I don’t know,” he said after a long pause in which Sam waited patiently. “I mean… there was nothing he ever said in so many words. But--” 

Suddenly, images stirred in Dean that he had not seen in his mind for a very long time. A boy, sixteen years old, big grey eyes and light brown skin and a smile on his lips that had immediately brought one to Dean’s too whenever he’d seen it. Dean had liked Matt, had started to become friends with him even though he knew it wouldn’t last because they’d be on the move again soon, and he’d have to go to a new school. If he was allowed to go again at all. Dean hadn’t known what it was between them; he had liked girls, found them pretty and attractive, had kissed Robin just a few months before, and the concept of anyone feeling the same way about girls and boys had simply never crossed his mind. 

There had definitely been something, though. A connection. Something that made Dean want to spend as much time with Matt as he could, and his dad had not liked it. They were hunters. There was no room for friendships and distractions in their lives. Family was all that mattered. Strangely, his reaction when he had caught Dean kissing a girl in a hidden corner of the motel parking lot half a year later, was to smack him on the back and give him a beer. In the years that followed, though, John had always reminded him that long-term attachments weren’t in the picture and regularly congratulated him on having become such a ‘ladies’ man’. 

“Do you remember my seventeenth birthday?” Dean asked as he pulled himself from his thoughts. Sam was standing close to him now but had remained quiet, and Dean still didn’t turn around. 

“Yeah. Dad sent you on a hunt,” he replied with a faint, bitter chuckle. “A haunted Indian mission, was it?” 

Dean nodded slowly. “I know they probably weren’t the best people. Those schools, it was bad what they did to the kids back then.” 

“Yeah. Definitely,” Sam said, and Dean could hear the mild confusion in his tone that told him he didn’t know where Dean was going with this. 

He bit his lower lip. “The two nuns, they-- they’d been in love, and when they were found out, they killed themselves.” Dean saw the old, tattered bible he had found behind a loose brick in their former chamber - a photo of them between the pages in the Book of Ruth. And Dean still remembered the verse, marked with a thin pencil line: ‘ _Where you go I will go, and where you stay I will stay’_ and ‘ _Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried_.’

There had been letters, too. They had doubted their mission’s objective and wanted to get away, but Dean couldn’t get the full picture, only able to skim the letters before the spirits had attacked him. Burning the bible and everything in it, he saw them both go up in flames. Still, in their last moment, as they both realized what was happening to them, they had reached out and clasped hands, their gruesomely contorted faces turning human again for one small second as they looked at each other in despair. 

When Dean had gotten back into the Impala, he hadn’t been able to stop crying for ages. 

Thinking back to all this now, he could feel something prickling in his eyes again. However, there was also a rage sizzling in the pit of his stomach that was only partially drowned out by the sense of – no, the _memory_ of guilt and shame he had felt back then. It had been the same shame he had felt every time he had been drawn to another boy, or man, no matter how vague that attraction had been. These feelings were only ever there for a split-second before he pushed them away, drowning them in drinks he was too young to consume, and hooking up with the first woman who would have him. And those hadn’t been few. 

“You think… dad did this on purpose? Sent you on that hunt to teach you a lesson?” Sam’s tone sounded a bit incredulous, and Dean didn’t know either if he really believed that. He just knew, now with much more clarity than he could have back then, that it had been a pivotal moment in his life, and it hurt all over again to go through it once more. 

“I don’t know, Sammy. I… maybe. I don’t know.” 

“Dean, you know you don’t need dad’s approval for anything you do with your life, right? I mean,” he sighed softly, a little exasperated but his voice gentle as he continued, “look at everything you’ve accomplished. What you’ve done _despite_ how we grew up, the person you’ve become. I know you looked up to him when we were kids, and in his own messed up way, dad loved us and tried to do his best, but… he never let us be _people_ with our own dreams and wishes because he was too obsessed with getting revenge for mom. So don’t let whatever he might have seen in you or wanted you to be, stop you now. Screw him!” 

It reminded Dean of what Cas had said to him, and that in itself didn’t make it easier to hold back the tears. He took another, deep breath, felt the salty air in his nose and lungs, and focused on the sounds of the softly rolling waves for a second. 

It felt good to hear this from his brother, too. To know that the two people he cared most about in the whole world saw him as more than just his father’s son was a relief. The more he tried to focus on this, the easier it became to let most of the shame in him transform into something not quite like anger but almost pity for a man who had not been able to see beyond his own narrow vision. 

“And just so you know,” Sam continued when Dean still hadn’t said anything, “Bobby would have been absolutely okay with it. And he was more of a father to us than dad ever was.” 

This time, Dean finally turned around, looking at Sam in surprise. “How would you know?” 

Sam shrugged faintly. “He, um, kinda made a comment once. About you and…” 

He didn’t need to finish for Dean to know who he was talking about, and Dean was grateful that Sam hadn’t mentioned the name, though Cas was on his mind already anyway. “What did he say?” 

Sam’s brows went up briefly, then furrowed, and he looked to the side, obviously trying to remember. “It was just… something in passing. He asked me if there was something going on between the two of you. I said I didn’t know, and he just shrugged and didn’t say anything.” 

“That’s not exactly approval,” Dean replied, still wrapping his head around the fact that Sam and Bobby had, even in passing, discussed the possibility of him and Cas being anything other than friends. Which must have been eight years ago or more. 

“No, but it was in the way he asked and then shrugged it off. Like it made no difference to him either way. It was just pure interest.” 

It wasn’t a very detailed answer, but the longer Dean thought about it, the more he believed Sam. He tried to picture Bobby reacting negatively, but no image formed in his mind, no contemptuous words he could have heard from him. All he could imagine was some snarky, grumpy comment about him not giving a damn and Dean being an ‘idjit’, or something like that. A small, slightly hesitant smile found its way on his lips. 

“Come on,” Sam said and slapped Dean on the back, a little more forcefully than would have been needed as a gesture of encouragement. “Time to turn in.” 

“Time to?” Dean asked. “Got any plans for the morning again?” 

“Maybe,” Sam replied, cryptically, and when Dean asked what, he remained tightlipped and simply said he’d find out soon enough. And although Dean didn’t exactly like not knowing what Sam had planned, he realized he had lost and was just going to have to wait and see. 

Once the lights were out and both of them laid in their beds, he thought more about that birthday. It had been almost twenty-five years, and the emotions the hunt had triggered in him - the trauma, really, that it had caused. He also thought of Raúl, who could sit laughing and drinking with his boyfriend despite having been hit in the face and kicked out by his own father. And then about his own father, who had treated Sam almost the exact same way for something as mundane and normal as wanting to go to college. Parents could try their hardest to mess up a kid’s life; sometimes, they’d succeed, but that didn’t have to be the rule, and Dean hadn’t been a kid for decades anyway. 

They had defeated demons and angels and God himself. It was time he finally didn’t let his father have any influence over his life any longer either. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:
> 
>  _Cuidado con lo que decís, chicos. Aquí Sam entiende español bastante bien._  
>  Be careful what you say, guys. Sam here understands Spanish quite well.
> 
>  _Jandro, ven, siéntate con nosotros_  
>  Jandro, come, sit with us.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit shorter. It was originally way longer, but I decided to split it because it was a bit _too_ long. So, just have a nice, pleasant moment between the brothers.  
> Hope you enjoy it, and stay tuned for the next one that's definitely going to be a bit more angsty ;-)

“You’re kidding me, right?” Dean stared at the building and the surrounding paddocks they were slowly approaching in amazed disbelief. “A horse ranch?” 

“Well, you always liked this cowboy stuff,” Sam laughed softly as Dean stopped the car in front of the ranch house. “Though, in this case, I should say gaucho.” 

“Actually, they’re called charros,” Dean corrected Sam, a bit smug about beating Sam in random and specific knowledge, “gauchos are South American.”

“Alright,” his brother conceded before he got out of the car, and Dean followed suit. 

They had driven for almost two hours inland. Sam had woken him very early - as hinted at the previous night - and refused to tell him where they were going during the entire car ride. Now, as they had finally reached their mystery destination, Dean still couldn’t quite believe it. “We-- we’re here to go horse riding?” 

Sam shrugged. “Yeah. Last time we had the chance, only I got to ride a horse, and it wasn’t as bad as I expected--”

“Oh, it was bad, Sam. That poor horse probably never had anyone as unrefined sitting on it as you,” Dean shot back, thinking about their time-traveling adventure to the Wild West. And yeah, the fact that those twenty-four hours hadn’t allowed for him to have a full Wild West gunslinger experience was regrettable. He had always wanted to ride off into the sunset on a horse, like a hero in a Western movie. 

“Yeah?” Sam asked with a snort, “Can’t wait for you to show me how it’s done then. I’m just surprised. Last I remember, we didn’t exactly grow up on a ranch in Texas.” 

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, but he was too giddy to get into any playful arguments. It was true that he had no real experience with horses to speak of, except for one time, but he was rather determined to not make an ass out of himself. After all, he’d also been rather skilled on the mechanical bull. 

“I’m a natural,” he said as they both walked up the stairs to the entrance. “At least that’s-- uhm… what Lee said.” 

“Lee?” Sam asked, brow furrowed. “When did you-- Oh, right. His day job was being a ranch hand back then?” 

Dean nodded, though there was a slight sting in his chest as he thought back. Despite how things had ended roughly a year ago, Lee had once been his friend. Someone who, even while hunting together, had given him some semblance of a more normal, freer life for a short time. If Dean was perfectly honest with himself, as he’d started to become recently, there had definitely been feelings on his part that had gone beyond mere friendship, though he never knew whether Lee had returned them. 

There was neither any use nor time contemplating this for much longer, though. As they entered the building, the owner greeted them warmly - she was a short but wiry woman, a few years older than them. After some introduction to the staff, both Sam and Dean were led outside to the stables. 

After some small talk, they confirmed that they _had_ sat on a horse before but had no actual theoretical knowledge of horse riding. Yolanda, their guide for the day, briefed them on some basics about what to do and what to avoid before they got to meet their horses. Sam got larger, brown gelding, with a calm, good-natured disposition, and Dean was given a slightly smaller calico mare who seemed a bit more lively but equally friendly.

It was a sunny day, but far from too hot for outdoor activities. They were offered hats or helmets to protect them against the sunshine, and of course, Dean picked a gambler-style cowboy hat, grinning to himself as he finally mounted the horse. After some final checks, making sure that the saddles were fixed correctly and the stirrups having the right length, Dean and Sam followed Yolanda out through the gate and onto a sandy path between bushes and trees. 

Despite having done this before, it felt mostly unfamiliar, definitely different than riding a mechanical bull, and it took Dean a while to get used to the rhythm of the gait. Despite her agile movements, the mare was calm enough for an inexperienced rider, and so Dean wasn’t at all concerned and instead focused on his surroundings. 

The hills were rolling softly around them, covered in woods and bush land, still mostly green despite the late season. When Yolanda led them into the leaf tree forest, the air became a little cooler, more humid, and pleasant, and Dean just leaned back a little and breathed in the smells around him. 

After a while, Yolanda suggested they’d try a trot, and that definitely was a little harder to manage and not bob up and down awkwardly with each step. Once he had gotten the hang of it, he just amused himself watching Sam, who had a slightly harder time not looking like a clumsy idiot. When they switched to a soft canter after a few moments longer, things improved for both of them despite the gait’s faster pace. 

It really felt, in a word, awesome, just sitting on a horse like the wild west heroes Dean had always admired, riding through the pleasant countryside and feeling the soft breeze on his face. There was a sense of liberty in him, something soothing that made him wish he could do this more often. 

Dean thought about all the fun things ordinary people got to try or do regularly that he never got around to doing or was never allowed to do, and somehow, even years later, that had stuck. Throughout his childhood and way into his twenties, any minute _not_ training, catching up on the lore, or taking care of Sammy had been a moment wasted in John Winchester’s eyes. And Dean had simply internalized all that so deeply that it had still affected him, even way into his adult years, long after his father had died. 

He hadn’t meant to let his thoughts drift into this territory, but he also couldn’t prevent it from happening, not after last night’s conversation. He was angry, though he tried not to be, not wanting his mood to somehow affect his horse - didn’t people always say how horses seemed to have a sixth sense for that? But, dammit, there were so many things he wished he could tell his dad now, making him see how wrong he had been with so many things. 

Dean was only torn out of his train of thought when, after being startled by something Dean could not see, Sam’s horse pranced sideways and skidded a bit. Sam let out the most ridiculous sounds, first a low kind of ‘Ahh-aah!’ that then turned into a rather high-pitched squeal as he swayed in the saddle and, seemingly on instinct, waved around with his arms for balance. 

Dean couldn’t help but laugh at that. No matter how dark his thoughts had been just now, he couldn’t help cracking up at the sight, trying not to laugh too loudly because that might irritate his poor mare as well. She did seem rather unimpressed, however. 

“Oh, I wish I could have filmed that,” Dean still chuckled as he guided his horse next to Sam’s, all three riders having stopped now, and Sam shot him a grumpy glare that was only betrayed by the slight twitching around his mouth because, yeah, there was no way he didn’t realize that he must have looked like a complete jackass. 

The rest of the ride went on rather uneventfully after that. They took a short break at a creek, letting the horses drink some water and stretching their legs, and, yep, Dean was definitely going to feel this later. 

It was lunchtime when they returned to the ranch, around two hours after they had ridden out, and Dean patted his horse goodbye as he and Sam walked back towards the main building. Sam winced a little and rubbed his butt, walking with his legs much more apart than usual. 

“What? Saddle-sore already?” Dean teased with a grin, ignoring that he, too, felt the same slightly unpleasant sensation. “They ain’t gonna make a cowboy out of you after all.” 

“Oh yeah?” Sam shot back. “And you’re completely okay, I guess?” 

Dean decided to remain honest and let out a long breath, shrugging slightly. 

“Thought so,” Sam retorted with a grin. “It was worth it, though.” 

“Oh, yeah, absolutely,” Dean replied. The hilarity was replaced by a somewhat softer, warmer feeling in his chest, and it was a genuine smile he gave his brother as he lightly clapped him on the back, squeezing his shoulder briefly. “Thanks, man.” 

“Yeah,” Sam replied, returning the smile, “You’re welcome.”

They went to pay, got some water, and used the men’s room before they finally headed back to their car.

“So, what’s next?” Dean asked as he started the engine, “Bungee jumping?” 

Sam raised his eyebrows at him. “Is that on your bucket list? Because I have no idea where we could do that anywhere close-by.”

Dean shrugged softly. “I don’t even _have_ a bucket list.” Sure, there had always been things he wanted to do, or dreamed of doing - bungee jumping not being one of them. With the life they had led, though, actually planning something long-term and working on fulfilling some kind of dream hadn’t been something Dean had thought he’d be able to do. 

“You should make one,” Sam said, completing his train of thought because, yeah, what was stopping him now? 

“What’s on yours then?”

Sam took a slightly deeper breath and pursed his lips in contemplation. “I dunno. I kinda always wanted to run a marathon. So maybe I’m gonna try to work towards that.” 

Dean had to snort at that, involuntarily, because, yeah, of course his brother would want to do something like that. 

“And I’d like to travel,” Sam went on, “Europe maybe. You know, Paris, Rome, Prague. Just that it’s hella expensive, so I’m not sure it’s in the picture anytime soon.” 

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Dean replied. They had always gotten by with some rather questionable ways to pay for things, and most of the time, Dean had not felt guilty about it because he and Sam had _had_ a job, just that nobody was paying them to do it. Now, however, they probably needed to come up with some long-term strategies on how to survive financially, and Dean honestly had no idea where to even start with that. “You’re lucky Eileen has some money.” 

“It’s not much. I mean her foster mom wasn’t exactly rich, and most of her inheritance is already used up,” Sam said, “Plus, I wouldn’t want her to--” 

“Be your sugar momma?” Dean cut him off with a smirk, seeing his brother roll his eyes but chuckling. 

“I’ll have to find a job, too. Though I’d like to do something different than being a janitor this time.” 

It was such a shame, Dean had to think at that moment, Sam being as intelligent as he was, always such a good pupil and with such high prospects when he had started college. And once again, it had been their father who’d messed it all up because who knew how things would have gone had he not disappeared fifteen years ago. His destiny would probably still have caught up with Sam, Dean had to admit - they never really had a chance as long as Chuck had been writing their story - but maybe he could have gotten a little further with his degree, and could build on that now, had it not been for their dad. 

“You could become a librarian,” Dean said, trying to steer both the conversation and his thoughts in a lighter direction. 

“Yeah, sure. You only need a master’s degree in library science for that,” Sam replied, and Dean furrowed his brow, genuinely surprised. 

“There’s something called library science?” 

“Yes, Dean. It’s a complex subject, not just putting books on a shelf.” 

“Huh, who would have thought.” 

Sam snorted at that and shook his head faintly. 

“I guess it’ll all depend on what job Eileen finds.” Dean knew that Eileen wanted to find a position either teaching ASL or working with deaf kids. Despite Dean hoping she and Sam would soon be able to build a normal life together, he also hoped that wherever she found a job, it wouldn’t be hundreds of miles away from Lebanon. 

He didn’t say that, however. Nor did he bring up that he had no idea whatsoever of what he should do, if he actually intended to quit hunting. What he said instead was, “Alright, we’ve been up since ass o’clock, and I’m starving. Let’s find somewhere to eat,” and Sam agreed with that suggestion whole-heartedly.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the second part of Dean dealing with (some of) his daddy issues. Mild warning for past child abuse.  
> Also, this is the chapter in which Alejandro is my gay twin because we have the same dad. Not very creative, I know, but the story is too 'good' (in an awful sense) to not have used it. Like Alejandro, I am fine, though. 
> 
> Hope you like the chapter. Please let me know if you do :-)  
> Some further notes at the end.

It was much later, in the evening, when Dean’s earlier thoughts resurfaced. He and Sam had spent the late afternoon on the beach again before, after a small dinner back in their apartment, Dean had gone to meet up with Alejandro. It wasn’t anything the other man had said or done - as always, Alejandro was easy, pleasant company - but Dean found himself wondering about too many what-ifs, his thoughts stuck in the past more than being in the present. 

When Alejandro kissed him, he suddenly thought of Lee again, all those years ago. He wondered what might have come of that, of them, if his dad hadn’t had such control over him and his entire life. And with that thought came, unwanted and unbidden, the somewhat nagging question of what his dad would think of him if he knew what Dean was doing. Yes, Sam had been right that Dean did not need his father’s approval on anything, not anymore. Still, Dean had also spent so many years of his life trying to gain recognition, respect, and… well, love, that he couldn’t close the proverbial box of Pandora that had been opened in his mind. 

Even with Alejandro’s hands on his body, his lips wandering lower to follow the trail of his fingers, Dean could not shut up his mind completely. He was embarrassed beyond belief when he realized that Alejandro noticed. 

“Hmm, not quite in the mood today?” he asked softly, resting his chin on Dean’s upper stomach, a hand caressing his shoulder. 

“What? No. Of course, I’m in the mood,” he shot back defensively, then let out a small, deliberate chuckle as if the mere suggestion was ridiculous. 

However, Alejandro looked at him with raised brows before he crawled back up the bed and laid down beside Dean, propped on one elbow. 

“You seem somewhere else with your thoughts, though.” 

Dean shrugged and made a small waving motion with his hand. “No, it’s just… err… I may be a little worn from all that horse riding. You know, once you reach my age, you’ll understand,” he said in a mock-dramatic tone that only made Alejandro snort and roll his eyes slowly. 

“Uh huh, yeah, those seven years between us really make a gigantic difference,” he leaned in to kiss the skin below Dean’s collarbone, then further up his neck and to the line of his jaw, before their lips met. It felt nice, as kissing Alejandro always did, and Dean definitely could not say that he was _not_ in the mood for anything beyond that. He just felt… tense and a little preoccupied. 

Alejandro’s hand wandered lower again, resting on top of Dean’s shorts as he deepened the kiss. Then, his hand slid past the waistband and into his boxer briefs. Dean pushed his hips up a little against the touch, trying to meet it - trying not to think of anything and least of all his dad and that odd glint of suspicion in his eyes that one time he had caught Dean and Lee drunk together when they should have been hunting. 

Lee, who had his arm around Dean as they sat together on the sofa in their motel room, passing the second bottle of scotch between them, laughing together over all sorts of stupid little things Dean couldn’t even remember now. How nice it had felt to just enjoy someone’s company like that, feel connected and close, only for all of it to be ruined when his dad barged in, so furious that Dean, at twenty-four years old, had felt like a scared little child and, worst of all, mortified under his father’s disapproving gaze. 

Before that, John Winchester had always said he liked Lee, but he had nothing good to say about him after this encounter, and Dean had never contacted Lee again. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if, maybe, had he stood up to his father then and for his friend, he could have prevented Lee from becoming what Dean had found out last year. 

Maybe it all hadn’t been his dad’s fault after all, but his own for being such a coward. 

“Okay, what’s up?” Alejandro asked gently, his hand withdrawing from Dean’s pants. 

Dean wanted to make another self-deprecating joke - ‘Obviously not what should be up’ - but he could not muster the right kind of energy for it. He felt a different sort of shame than the one he had just remembered and, with it, angry frustration. A part of him just wanted to get away, and he followed an impulse when he sat up, skidded to the edge of the bed, and sat with his back turned towards Alejandro. 

“This isn’t-- I don’t know what’s going on,” he ground out, “This usually doesn’t happen to me. I don’t have problems with--” 

“Hey, hey,” Alejandro said, coming closer and kneeling behind Dean, wrapping one arm around his shoulder. “I know you don’t. You’ve proven your stamina rather well the other nights,” he said close to Dean’s ear, the smile audible in his voice. “But something’s bothering you _today_ , so don’t feel embarrassed about that. It happens to the best of us.” 

Dean relaxed a little, or resigned even. Leaning back against Alejandro’s embrace, he closed his eyes for a moment, taking a slow, deep breath, and another. “Sorry. It’s just… some stuff on my mind.” 

“Hm, what stuff?” Alejandro asked, caressing Dean’s shoulder before he let his hand go up the back of Dean’s head, fingers raking through his short hair. Those touches made Dean instantly relax a bit more. Yet, he didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it. He wouldn’t even know where to start, and he wasn’t exactly used to baring his thoughts like that to people. 

“It’s, uh, I dunno,” Dean started, not turning around for the moment, just trying to focus on the way Alejandro’s fingers gently massaged his scalp as he waited patiently. “Something your buddy Raúl was talking about last night made me think about… stuff.” 

“What did he talk about?” Alejandro’s second hand now went to Dean’s neck and started massaging the muscles in it, making Dean notice only then that he was actually, physically tense. 

“How his father hit him in the face and kicked him out when he found out he was gay.” This part was easier to mention than anything about his own life. 

“Oh.” There was something knowing and understanding in Alejandro’s tone. “And now you’re thinking about your dad... how he would’ve reacted if he knew?” 

Bingo. 

“It’s ridiculous,” Dean replied. “The man’s been dead for fourteen years.” Except for that one time when he’d come back. When _Dean_ had brought him back. And he wondered again why he had done that. What had made him wish - so badly - to have his dad there with them instead of expelling Michael from his mind. When it had happened, seeing his mom - and even Sam, in a way - so happy at the reunion, Dean had been happy as well. It was like, once confronted with his dad and with every positive aspect of him, Dean had not wanted to see or even acknowledge all the bad ones. It was still so difficult to even try and make sense of it all. 

“Hm, well, sometimes these things really affect us for a long time,” Alejandro said, still massaging Dean’s neck and shoulders. 

“Yeah. Well.” Dean didn’t know what else to reply. 

“You think your dad would have acted like Raúl’s? If you’d figured things out while he was still alive?” 

Dean let out a sigh through his nose, biting his lower lip before he shook his head faintly. “I dunno. Maybe. Probably.” Hadn’t that situation with Lee been almost like that? Hadn’t John pulled him by the arm, forcefully, on their way back to the car, with the only reason for him not having done more probably being the fact that Dean was now as strong as him? Would John have punched him, too, if he had caught a much younger Dean kissing his friend Matt? Maybe Dean was just projecting things onto John now, doing him an injustice by making him worse than he was, in his mind, in a purely fictional scenario that had nothing to do with their reality. But what if it did? What if he _was_ right about him? He’d just never find out now, and the thought bothered him more than he would even have thought. 

“How did your dad react?” Dean asked instead, trying to divert the topic. 

“Hm, mostly okay, I guess. I mean, he wasn’t thrilled or anything. He just mostly ignored it. But my dad had other flaws I kinda struggled with for a while.” 

“Oh? Like what?” Dean wanted to know, and this time, he finally did turn around as much as he had enjoyed Alejandro’s touches. 

Alejandro sank back onto the bed, again propped up on one elbow, and Dean sat next to him, legs outstretched and back leaning against the headboard. 

“The way he treated my mom, most of all,” Alejandro started. “You have to know, I always looked up to him when I was a kid. He just had this way of… of wrapping people around his finger and always turning things around in his favor. So when he started cheating on my mom with all sorts of women, it was, of course, all my mom’s fault.” Alejandro rolled his eyes and let out a small sigh, a regretful smile on his lips. “He also used me as an alibi when he went to meet his girlfriends and expected me to back him up, because his own enjoyment was always more important to him than anything else.”

“Oh. Wow, that’s harsh,” Dean replied, and although it was an entirely different situation, he had to acknowledge that this also could not have been easy for Alejandro. 

“So all in all, it took me quite a few years to figure out that the image I had of my dad when I grew up wasn’t all that accurate. I mean, he wasn’t a through-and-through bad person. I mean, he never hit me or anything. But he also wasn’t a very good one.”

Dean felt himself inwardly wince at Alejandro’s words, and something must have betrayed his thoughts on his features because Alejandro’s brow furrowed ever so slightly, his eyes shining with sympathy as he looked at Dean. 

“Did he…” 

Alejandro left the question hanging open as Dean inhaled slowly and, not to say ‘no’ but to chase the memories away, shook his head. “It was difficult times for all of us. With mom gone and everything,” he said vaguely - to placate Alejandro but himself, too. “We all overreact sometimes.” 

“Well, true, but--” 

“How did your dad die?” Dean cut him off again, not wanting the conversation to go in this direction. He realized for the first time that, while Alejandro had spoken of his dad before and described him in the past tense, he had never asked about him. 

“Throat cancer,” Alejandro replied. “Just one and a half years ago. My mom only found out about his latest affair afterward, so that was quite a mess back then.” 

“Oh, wow, I’m really sorry,” Dean said and reached for Alejandro’s hand on impulse, entwining their fingers and caressing the back of it with his thumb. Maybe giving comfort to someone else came more naturally to him than receiving it, but Dean did not want to reflect on that. He was glad, too, that Alejandro didn’t seem to want to prod into their earlier topic, either. 

“Yeah, wasn’t easy,” he said with a small smile, “But… You know, I don’t want to speak of him like it’s been all bad. My dad was fun to be around most of the time. He was charming and hilarious, and he had a great taste in music. It’s just that he was also an opportunist and sometimes very, very selfish.” 

“Hmm, doesn’t seem like you’re a lot like him in those last two aspects,” Dean said and was pleased to see a slightly wider smile on Alejandro’s lips at that. 

“I try not to be. I’m my own person, you know. And he made so many mistakes I was able to learn from that I should be grateful.” 

Dean both envied and admired Alejandro for that, instantly wondering how much _he_ had learned from his father’s mistakes. It wasn’t something he would have claimed to have done without being pushed towards that realization, but thinking about it now, he knew it to be true. He had done better with Sam than his dad had ever done, and with Ben, Claire, and despite all the things he still couldn’t forgive himself for, even with Jack. At least, Dean had never pushed his own agenda on them, had never made them feel ashamed for wanting things for themselves or for just being kids. 

Once again, words lingered at the edge of his consciousness. He tried to push them away, but they were there, ingrained in his mind as a source for both comfort and grief. While he still struggled to believe everything Cas had said to him, a part of him did, a part trusted that Cas had been able to see more in him, see him more clearly than Dean ever saw himself. Maybe this was what it all boiled down to. John Winchester had always claimed to do things out of love for his family, but it had been mainly a need for revenge that had driven him. And while Dean had so often thought this was his main motivator, too - that he _was_ broken and destructive - it was exactly the other way around. 

Despite how he had looked up to his dad as a child, and young man - despite all the things they _did_ have in common - Dean and his father had always been polar opposites. Dean just had to learn to honestly believe that. 

“So…” Alejandro started, both of them having been quiet for a while, maybe both equally lost in thought. “How about some mindless entertainment, and then we see where this night is heading?” 

Dean nodded slowly, finding it easier now to give Alejandro a small smile in return. 

“What did you have in mind? A movie?” 

Alejandro shrugged and seemed to ponder this for a moment. Then, a crooked smirk formed on his lips, and his brows went up. “Have you ever watched _Ghost Shark_? Because it’s the most ridiculous shark movie ever made. I mean, if you’re even into shark movies.” 

“Are you kidding?” Dean asked with a grin. “I love ridiculous shark flicks. _Sand Sharks, Sharknado, Dino Shark_ … haven’t seen _Ghost Shark_ , though.” 

“Oh, then you’re in for a ride. Because that one is even worse than the others you mentioned.” Alejandro seemed excited now. The smile on his face turned into a grin as he got up from the bed and grabbed a t-shirt to put it on. 

He went over to the TV rack, turning it around so they could watch from the bed, and switched on an external hard drive he had connected to his TV. 

“Okay, so don’t judge me for only having pirated this one. This isn’t exactly something I wanted to spend money on.” 

“Hey, absolutely no judgment,” Dean replied, putting on his shirt, too, “You don’t want to know how much _HBO_ and _Disney+_ stuff I’ve pirated. Fuck capitalism.” 

“Disney, huh?” Alejandro asked teasingly as he went to the kitchen and got two beers as well as a bag of chips. 

“Hey, _The Mandalorian_ is awesome.” 

“Well, no arguing there,” Alejandro replied and sat back down on the bed, placing the bag of chips between them, the remote control in one hand. “Okay, ready for one of the worst movies ever made? Though… it might even be mildly educational from a hunter’s perspective.” 

Dean raised an eyebrow at Alejandro and smiled as he lifted his beer bottle and clanked it against Alejandro’s. 

“Let’s get the show started.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About Ghost Shark: I have not seen it. I do enjoy the occasional silly shark flick, and I've seen all the ones Dean listed (Sand Sharks is kinda awesome, because it's more of a genre parody than anything else), but Ghost Shark sounds just too stupid. Plus I couldn't find it anywhere, but I watched a summary/review on Youtube. Sadly forgot to save it and now can't find it anymore. Maybe you'll have more luck. All you need to know is that they actually have to burn the corpse of the shark to make the ghost disappear, which prompted Alejandro to say it's even somewhat educational, lol. 
> 
> Also, can I just say how I love Dean even more for liking sharks (he was talking about Shark Week and shark facts to Sam once)? Being a shark enthusiast myself. Damn, the parallels between me and Dean could fill a book. ^^


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my beta has been rather busy with GISH this past week, but she still managed to read the chapter before an entire week is over, so yay for that.   
> This is the penultimate one of what I would call "Part (or Act) I" of the fic. There are 3 parts in total, and I'm currently working on part III.   
> I hope you enjoy the chapter and that you, same as I did when writing this, can at least soak up the sun in your imagination a bit. Although spring is finally nearing in many parts of the world, so that's a good thing :-)

It was pleasantly warm; the sun was shining brightly, and a soft breeze was coming from the ocean. Dean was lying on his beach chair on his back, eyes closed, and just listening to the sounds of the waves. There was nobody else on the beach this morning - Sam had gone back to their apartment when Eileen texted him a while ago, and many locals attended Sunday church services or were sleeping in after a night of partying. 

Dean had not gotten many hours of sleep last night either, and he was close to dozing off. After watching that utterly ridiculous movie together, the night had ended as Dean had hoped it would from the start: with amazing sex that included probably one of the best blowjobs he’d ever gotten. The mere memory made him smile softly as small tingles went through his stomach. He tried to focus on the sounds around him instead, though. Not that it would matter much, with nobody else around, if he popped a boner, but he wasn’t ready to take another dip in the cooling ocean. No, he just wanted to relax a bit and maybe take a nap. 

He didn’t know how long or how deeply he’d even fallen asleep, but Dean was awoken from his doze by a soft voice next to him. 

“Hey.” 

He needed a moment to fully wake up. Blinking at the brightness even through his sunglasses, he raised himself up and looked at Alejandro’s smiling face. 

“Hey.” 

“Sorry, did I wake you?” Alejandro asked, a small smirk forming on his lips that was positively mischievous, “You know, if I wear you out or anything, you just have to--”

“No,” Dean interrupted him, letting out a chuckle, “You’re not wearing me out. Just because I’m… what? - seven years older than you, doesn’t mean I can’t keep up.” 

It was meant as a joke, though there was still the tiniest trace of embarrassment in him thinking back to the beginning of last night. There had been a time when no negative thoughts would have gotten in the way of  _ that _ , at least not once he was already in the mood. Maybe he really was getting old. 

“I was joking,” Alejandro replied and then sat down on the second beach chair where Sam had left his towel, still folded. “Where’s your brother?” 

“Face-timing with his girlfriend. Something about a place she found for them,” Dean said. He sat up completely and reached for the water bottle that he’d parked under the chair in the shade. 

“Oh? Exciting. I mean…” Alejandro paused, shrugging softly, “It’s going to be a change, though, huh? Are you going to be okay with that?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean replied nonchalantly, “still got plenty of other people around at the bunker, and it’s not like we’ll be out of each other’s lives completely.” 

“Yeah, no, definitely,” Alejandro replied, “I mean Gabi and I sometimes only see each other a couple of times a year, but we talk to each other often on the phone. Actually, she just called me earlier.” 

“That’s nice,” Dean replied before he put the backrest of the chair up and settled down again more comfortably. 

“Yeah. We’re pretty close,” Alejandro said. 

Dean could see him biting his bottom lip briefly, looking at Dean sideways, something between bashful and mischievous as his brows went up slightly. “She told me a few interesting things, too.” 

Dean had a pretty good idea in what direction those things might be going. “She did?” 

Alejandro let out a small chuckle and lowered his gaze before he looked back up at Dean. “Yeah, well, I hope you don’t hold it against me, but I told her about you and Sam a few days ago. She couldn’t quite place the names, but today she said she made the connection. Some of the stuff you’ve seen and done is apparently also infamous among hunters in Mexico.” 

Dean let out a long sigh, smiling vaguely through it. “Ah, yes, and most of them probably don’t know the half of it.” 

Alejandro snorted softly. “That’s probably true. It wasn’t bad what she said or anything. So don’t worry. Just about some people who know you by two or three degrees of separation, and some of the stuff you already told me about, like averting the Apocalypse.” He shook his head a little, as if a part of him still couldn’t even believe it, and Dean could hardly blame him. 

“Yeah, well, word gets around about these things among hunters. And like I said, not all of them get the whole picture. Some were pretty pissed at us for a lot of things, too.” 

“The disadvantages of being…,” There was that slightly teasing glint in Alejandro’s eyes now, “a hunter celebrity.”

“Oh shut up,” Dean huffed and rolled his eyes as Alejandro laughed softly. 

“Hey, you didn’t tell her… everything, though? Like, the big stuff?” Dean asked, a little concerned. That one night, he had probably spilled quite a few secrets that he should have considered sharing more carefully, but Alejandro had been so curious, so open. It had just been kind of nice - a relief even - to talk about it to someone the same way normal people were talking about their ordinary lives or careers. 

“Hell, no,” Alejandro replied with a breathy chuckle, “I couldn’t find a way to address  _ that _ without sounding like a crazy gullible person who believes, as you’d call it, every batshit insane story they hear.” 

“Probably for the best,” Dean said, “It’s not like most of that stuff even still matters. But hey, if she ever needs info on a specific creature or something, we have a pretty big-- Uh, we have a  _ database _ now. Back at the bunker, they’ve started to digitalize the whole library. So any kind of lore she and Miguel can’t get their hands on, we might be able to help.”

“That’s definitely an offer I’ll let her know about.” 

“Yeah, just ask Sam how to best get in touch. I think we even have a  _ main line _ now,” Dean said, remembering that it was one thing Charlie had talked about with Colin - one of the guys that had joined them over summer and who was almost as much of a tech nerd as her. 

“I’ll definitely do that. But for now…” Alejandro got up from the beach chair and pulled his t-shirt over his head, dropping it on the surface, “I’m going for a swim.” 

For a moment, Alejandro regarded Dean, brow ever so slightly furrowed, and Dean wondered if he was about to ask him to join, but then, Alejandro’s gaze went back to his bar. “Uh, could you maybe… I mean, in case anyone comes, could you tell them I’ll be back in a few?” 

Dean nodded, a smile on his lips, that instantly disappeared a second later when he considered Alejandro’s request. “How exactly am I gonna say that in Spanish?” 

Alejandro gave him a soft chuckle and scratched the back of his neck. “You could say ‘un memento, por favor.’ Or just point and gesticulate and shout for me to come back?” 

“Sure. I’m gonna make a complete jackass of myself for you,” Dean said with a grin and a shrug and saw the smile on Alejandro’s face turn wider. 

“Thank you. And, you know, it sounds pretty good when you speak Spanish.” He winked, and Dean felt a smile spread on his lips that must have looked just a bit bashful. 

“Well, good to know,” Dean said and, as Alejandro had already gone a few steps towards the water, called, “Hey, watch out for any ghost sharks!” 

Alejandro turned once more with a laugh, gave Dean one thumb up, and then waded into the water, submerging just a few seconds later and swimming out in a moderately paced crawl. 

Dean watched him for a moment but then leaned back comfortably again and closed his eyes. Only a moment later, however, he realized that he probably shouldn’t be dozing off again in case any customers  _ did _ arrive. So he got up, turned his chair around a bit to face the sun that was traveling south, which also gave him a better view of the direction people usually would be coming from when getting to the beach. 

Just a minute or two later, he did see a figure approaching, but he quickly realized it was Sam. 

“Did she find you a place?” Dean asked as soon as Sam was within earshot, ignoring the small sense of anxiety that gnawed at the back of his mind. 

His brother gave him a short, rather thin smile and sat down on his chair, feet in the sand, and turned towards Dean. “Uh, yeah. And-- What’s that?” He had just noticed the t-shirt on the foot of his chair. 

“Alejandro’s,” Dean said, pointing his thumb towards the sea where the man was still swimming his rounds. He took the t-shirt and put it on his own chair instead. 

“Ah,” Sam nodded and cleared his throat, “So, yeah, she found a place. And a job.” 

“A job too? That’s… that’s great. What kind exactly?”

“As an ASL teacher for adults,” he replied, and this time, the smile on his lips turned a little brighter, lasted longer, and it was clear to see the pride in it. However, his brow was also furrowed slightly, and he regarded Dean with a regretful expression that made Dean feel even worse than if his brother had been blasé about it. “There’s a learning center for people who recently lost their hearing, up in Lincoln. It’s a pretty big opportunity. Good employer. It’s a municipal institution with additional funding from a private foundation. The payment would be pretty good, too. And with it being a bigger city, I’m sure I could find something a little more challenging than doing maintenance, too.” 

“Hey, you don’t have to justify this to me,” Dean said, and, despite everything, he meant it. “It does sound great. And Lincoln’s not that far. It’s like, what? Two and a half, three hours?” He didn’t want to sound like that was a condition of him agreeing to this - it was not his place to agree or disagree with it anyway - so he quickly added, “I mean, if you wanted to come down and visit us in the bunker. See the girls, and…” Were they going to take Miracle? Sam had always wanted a dog. 

“Yeah. It’s still pretty close,” Sam said and gave Dean a small encouraging smile. Then, however, he inhaled a little more deeply before he continued, “The place she found is great, too. It’s a small house not far from the learning center, but an actual house that we could afford. It needs some renovations before we could move in, though, so she wants me to have a look before she signs.” 

“Is she there right now?”

“Yeah, she drove up to last night, and she’s staying until--” Sam paused, and there was this look on his face again that almost made Dean tell him to spit it out already. “She has her final meeting with the center tomorrow, and if everything goes well, which it looks like it will, then... we’d have to sign the lease for the house on Tuesday.” 

Dean very briefly indulged the possibility that he had messed up the dates as people sometimes did on holidays, and it wasn’t, in fact, Sunday yet but still Saturday. But sadly, he came to no such conclusion. 

“Tuesday? So… we have to leave today. Probably drive through the night, so you can get there by--” 

“No, Dean,” Sam interrupted him, a chuckle escaping him despite the still regretful, mildly concerned look on his face, “ _ I’m _ leaving. Tomorrow morning. There’s a flight going from Tampico to Houston, and then a connecting one to Omaha. I’ll be there in six hours, and you don’t have to drive for over twenty just to get me there and cut your holiday short.”

“Hey, I’ve driven longer distances in less time,” Dean protested, though, yes, he didn’t want to leave just yet. He wanted more of the sun and warmth, more of the blue ocean, and he really would have freaking liked to know that last night with Alejandro would be the last, because what were the odds that he’d find someone with whom things were so uncomplicated and fun? But he also didn’t just want to… to abandon his brother like that, and the second the thought crossed his mind, he knew how ridiculous it was, but he couldn’t help it. “We could still enjoy the rest of the day and then really drive through the night. Take turns. Let you ride Baby one last time?” 

Sam exhaled slowly, pressed his lips together in a sympathetic smile. “I already booked the flight.” 

“You what?” If Dean had to describe what he was feeling and thinking at this moment, he would not have known how to start. Sure, there was surprise, and that underlying feeling of anxiety, of… of loss, even though he knew, logically, that Sam was never going to be out of his life completely. Even though he had always known that this day would come, that this era of their lives would end for a new one to begin. Among those thoughts, however, there was also a strange sense of relief. Almost as if a burden had been lifted from him because, for once, he didn’t  _ have _ to do everything for Sam. With that, though, instantly game guilt that he even allowed that other thought to pass, and if Dean gave himself the time to examine where this guilt came from, he was sure to open up a whole other can of worms with it. All his life, he’d always been responsible for Sam, and if Sam actually left now, took his life in his own hands, who did Dean then have to be responsible for but himself? 

“I had to make a call, and so I did,” Sam replied, “Because this,” he made a waving motion in the direction of the sea, “it’s good for you. I haven’t seen you so relaxed and in such a good mood in years. You need this, Dean, and you deserve it. So take a few more days, or a week or two, and just freaking enjoy your life for once. Come back when you want to, and not because you feel like you have to, or like you owe  _ me _ anything, or anyone else for that matter. Because I guarantee you, I’m absolutely okay with this.” 

Dean definitely shouldn’t feel… well, disappointed by that, even a little hurt. He absolutely knew that, and for the most part, he understood it. It was just that in all those years, they had never once parted on good terms. It had always been some big fallout that had made them go their separate ways, and never a decision made for both their benefits, and Dean simply didn’t know what to do with this completely new concept. 

He let out a small chuckle, something between bitter and amused about himself, and he shook his head slowly. “You’re right. Pretty pathetic, though, huh? That I go all separation anxiety on you like an idiotic helicopter parent just because you’re finally moving out at thirty-seven.”

Sam huffed out a small laugh. “Yeah. That is pretty pathetic.”

“Well, thanks for making me feel better,” Dean replied dryly, but grateful for this change of tone. “When’s your plane leave anyway?” 

“Uh, I have to be at the airport by seven tomorrow morning. So, whatcha thinking? Quiet day at the beach?”

Dean nodded as he leaned back a bit more comfortably again, adjusting his sunglasses so the light wouldn’t blind him. “We could grab some food downtown. That other place we passed after dinner last time?”

“Oh yeah, traditional Mexican food with lots of beans, onions, and cheese? What could go wrong?” Sam chuckled and spread his towel on his chair to settle down comfortably. 

“Good thing your bed is closest to the window. Gotta keep it open all night, then.” 

Sam laughed a little louder at that and shook his head in amusement. 

“I hope for Eileen’s sake your house has two bedrooms. The poor woman doesn’t deserve this,” Dean went on, and yeah, maybe he was being a little childish, but he didn’t care. “At least she can’t hear your snoring.” 

“Rich of you,” Sam retorted, “I wonder what Alejandro would say if you stayed the whole night for once. Hm, maybe I should warn him.” 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” Dean said, ignoring the implications in Sam’s words for the moment. Then again, there wasn’t anything that spoke against staying a whole night for once. They both knew this was just a casual thing for the duration of Dean’s stay. 

However long that was going to be. He was going to enjoy it as long as it lasted. 


End file.
